


A Soldier's Heart

by Faldon113



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Badly written fight scenes, Failure to Communicate, Other, possible triggers, seriously how do you tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2018-10-08 13:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10388199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faldon113/pseuds/Faldon113
Summary: Kaine Faldon is a woman of mystery. Her past is an open fictional novel and her future is hidden even from her. All that exists is the present moment...but sometimes that just isn't enough. Every day she struggles with the question of who and what she should be. The soldier that she has forged herself into? Or the weapon that the UNSC created? With the war trudging on day after endless day, it becomes harder and harder to decide. Eventually, she may have no choice.Now the only remaining question is if she'll survive to see that day.“Who, the Spartans?” she asked tiredly, unable to keep the lopsided smile off of her face. “No, it wasn't easy. But it wasn't bad, either. Well, not unbearable, at least. Sort of...nice. In a way.” Then she chuckled, dark and humorless. “Always nice to see my siblings again; I'd almost forgotten that I was a Spartan myself.”





	1. Corbulo's Last Stand

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my reworked version of To Be A Spartan. There's no need to read that version first (I, frankly, prefer this version) but I'll explain the rules here.  
> 1) This story is heavy on Original Characters since I'm attempting to flesh out a section of the Halo universe that is rarely visited. Even the Canon Characters will be a little OOC, however, because you can't introduce a new major character and expect there to be no influence on the others. If any of this bothers you, please stop reading. I'm sick of people whining about how I'm not restricting myself to canon.  
> 2) Though Kaine is obviously a major character, she is not going to revolutionize the Halo universe. She will save nothing that is destroyed in canon, nor will she destroy anything that is saved. So don't expect me to rescue anyone that dies or kill anyone that lives, though I may want to. Any character MIA, however, is fair game.  
> 3) I love writing and I LOVE to get comments. There is little that makes me happier than getting a note of what you thought of the story, or ideas and/or requests. I even appreciate constructive criticism because it always helps to know what I can improve. However, I have ZERO patience for rude, offensive, or bullying comments. If you send them, you will either be ignored or yelled at in notes, since no one is ever brave enough to log in before they say mean things. Any other comments will be welcomed with open arms.

**Corbulo's Last Stand**

Time: 0320\

April 25, 2526\

Circinius IV

“ _Good morning, sleepyhead,_ ” the damn voice in her head chirped, triggering an instant scowl. For chocolate's sake, she'd been awake for three seconds. Couldn't he wait until she was aware of more than the fact that she was horizontal? “ _You're the one that said you needed to hit the ground running today, grumpy. I'm just the messenger._ ”

“Like you don't get a perverse joy out of this,” she grumbled back, thankful for the millionth time that she didn't have a roommate like nearly every other cadet in the academy. Having charges of insanity on her file wouldn't be good for her future career. “You know full well I am not expected anywhere until 0600, so why pounce on me at 0320?” Knowing he would only give her a sarcastic answer, she reluctantly rolled out of bed and stumbled into the attached bathroom; a luxury provided because of her unique situation.

“ _Don't know what you're complaining about. I'm just giving you a chance to work out all of your bitchiness before you have to be polite and social._ ” Doubtful, and she made sure he felt her disbelief but didn't bother responding with anything besides general emotion. There was no arguing with the bastard, even on her good days.

Running cold water into the sink basin, she cupped her hands under the stream and quickly scrubbed her face. Though she knew the temperature difference should have made her jump at the least, it didn't cause so much as a twitch. That reminder of everything she'd endured never failed to make her pause and stare into the mirror, desperately trying to find a hint of the person she had once been. Some mornings she thought there was a glint in her eyes that she'd lost, and others she couldn't find anything. Just a void where a child used to be. “ _You're being morbid again._ ”

“I didn't ask,” she snarled, snatching the towel off the rack and quickly drying her face. It only took a moment to run a comb through her hair, still damp from her shower the night before and looking like old blood. She had to remember to check with Col Mehaffey about how long it would take to wash out the dye. Temporary coverage her ass; the thing was clinging on with the tenacity that most students at the school lacked. She also avoided catching her eyes in the mirror, not used to the changes yet. Just a flash of silver anymore was enough to throw her into a full rage, and she couldn't afford to destroy an entire dorm before classes had even started.

There were days that she longed for what her life had once been. Not perfect, no, but at least she hadn't been alone. It had never occurred to her just how important it was to be with people she could talk openly to...well, maybe not talk. Still, it would be nice to have someone nearby that could understand.

Ignoring the subconscious mutterings of her mental voice, the redhead quickly gathered her gear and slipped into training armor before quietly exiting the room. The halls were dark as she moved through them quickly, noting which rooms emanated snores and which were silent. She paused only once, standing before a sealed room and wondering for the millionth time if she should knock. It was no secret the cadet was having a hard time since the news had been brought but...the words lodged in her throat as she turned and continued walking.

The exit had just been revealed after the final turn of the hall when the cadet heard footsteps behind her. “Cadet Faldon.” Coming to an instant stop, she turned quickly and saluted, already knowing who had found her. Still, she had to hide the smile that wanted to appear at the flash of bright pink. She'd thought the General would have figured out how to remove the dye by now. “What are you doing out of bed at 0330 hours?”

“I couldn't sleep, General Black,” she answered flatly, staring straight ahead as he shifted and approached. His scowl was clearly more from lack of sleep than any actual irritation, so she wasn't overly concerned. It had never occurred to her that she could use her father's friendships to get away with some of her more harmless quirks, but since arriving at the Academy, it felt like she'd done little else. “Shall I return to my quarters, sir?”

“So you can make another glitter bomb?” he snarled, though his voice lacked significant heat. “No thank you. I've learned my lesson about giving you time alone, Cadet.” Another almost-smile twitched her lips, but it was gone quickly. It didn't really feel like she had much to smile about anymore. “Actually, Cadet,” the officer sighed, catching her attention fully. “I wanted to check in on how you're doing. This has been a rough semester for you and I'm worried we're letting you slip through our fingers.” A logical concern, if not one she shared.

“I'm within acceptable limits, General,” she replied honestly, daring to meet his eyes. “It still hurts, but I'm not going to fall to pieces. My trainers have put too much work into me to allow myself to break.” He smiled at that; if only he knew just how much of a history was in her words.

“I suppose we have,” he admitted, looking out the clear doors and onto the dark training grounds. The moment of silence stretched between the two before he shrugged and turned away. “You're training with Beta Squad today, Cadet,” he called over his shoulder as he returned to his own quarters. It was as close to permission as she was going to receive, so the redhead nodded to his back before quickly leaving the building. There was only a second of pause as she took a deep breath of the humid night air before she was running across the grounds.

Her mother had always said it was impossible to outrun demons. She wasn't sure she agreed. It was only when her legs were pumping when the ground was flying beneath her feet, when the wind was pressing into her face so hard that she could barely breathe...it was only in those moments that she truly felt alive anymore. That she truly felt...human.

“And that's my first mistake,” she muttered sourly as her pace slowed when the field she wanted drew close. “Can't be something I'm not.” The voice in her head made a strong sound of disapproval but she paid it no attention, instead focusing on stripping off the light armor and beginning her stretches. In minutes she was a flurry of movements, shifting easily between punches, blocks, kicks, and rolls. She lost herself in the actions, barely aware of where she was or anything around her. Some would call it meditation, and she wasn't truly in a position to argue. If meditation meant simply an altered mental state from the norm, then yes, combat drills were her meditation. They didn't make her very zen, but hey, no one said it had to.

With a final burst of energy, the redhead hit one of the training poles with an open-palm strike. Instantly, an alarm started blaring from the dorms, making her jerk back in surprise. It didn't even take a full second to realize that the alarm wasn't for any purpose than to wake the dead, so she watched as several dark shadows stumbled around the hall. First years, based on location, and she was willing to bet that it was Histati Squad. Even a social recluse like her had heard of how one of the cadets had royally fucked up a combat training exercise and there was no way the squad leader would let that go unpunished. Sleep deprivation was just an old military tradition that no one had bothered getting rid of.

“Hey, Kaine!” The instant tension that the sound triggered was quickly discarded as the redhead turned to face the call. Cadet Jameson was watching her, a strange look of amusement on his face. “From the sweat you've built up, I'm guessing you've been out here for a while.”

“Just doing warmups,” the cadet, Kaine Faldon, replied with a shrug, trotting over easily. The alarm from the dorms had finally silenced, though she could still hear yelling, so she took her time to observe the other cadet. He was nearly twenty, having gotten into the Academy when he was sixteen, and the Squad Leader of Beta Squad. His hair was kept shaved so short she could never truly determine what color it was, and his eyes were a honey hazel that always seemed warm and friendly. In fact, that was Jameson in a nutshell. When she'd first met him, she'd almost discounted him as someone too gentle to be a good soldier and was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. Despite his looks and personality, Jameson could be outright cold and lethal when the situation called for it. Perhaps that was why he was one of the very few cadets that could get away with calling her a friend. “I wasn't aware Beta was doing an early formation; am I late?”

“Nah, you're fine,” Jameson said easily, flicking his hand in a dismissive way. “When we saw that you were assigned to us for the day we decided to have an early warm up to keep up with you, but you still managed to beat us.” She tried to give an apologetic smile but wasn't entirely sure that it had come out correctly. “Come on; you can help us with that throw Captain Hillard showed everyone yesterday.”

“I'll be there in a minute,” she answered cooly, watching as the older cadet trotted away before going to collect her armor. She knew she was stalling, but found herself incapable of moving on until Histati came jogging out of the barracks, all in armor and apparently knowing just how horrible the day would be for them. Orenski had already set a brutal pace and had them nearly racing to the range. Kaine paid little attention to most of the squad, instead focusing on the cadet that brought up the rear, lagging slightly behind. Again, she nearly twitched with the need to speak to the boy, but there was no time and very little point. Instead, she huffed a small sigh and quickly walked away, knowing where Beta would gather.

Her early morning passed in a bit of a blur, trapped between helping the members of Beta master a throw that she had learned when she was nine and wrestling with the terminal boredom that haunted her every step. While her fellow cadets struggled with the basics of combat, she nearly chafed to complete her own routines. However, as the minutes ticked by, more and more cadets were entering the training yards and beginning their own workouts. Too many witnesses to do more than subtle stretches, which left her with too much energy and too much frustration.

“Form up, Beta!” Jameson suddenly called, snapping them all out of their little worlds as they scrambled to obey. It only took a small handful of seconds before they all stood neatly in their rows, eyes forward and body relaxed. “General Black just informed me that we're running combat drills with Sierra Squad today. An entire day shooting at Sierra; what could be better?” Kaine could feel the amusement ripple through the other cadets, though none of them made a sound. “Because of this change, we're cleared for early breakfast. Time's short, so let's go.” He didn't wait for a response, instead taking off at a jog for the cafeteria while the rest of his squad turned sharply and followed. Faldon fell out of the formation and sped up a hair to catch up with Jameson, who merely smiled at her. “Must be nice not being officially assigned to a squad. Don't have to follow as many rules.”

“Not as nice as you seem to think,” the redhead replied, voice distinctly chilly as she frowned. Having vague or ambiguous orders was the very antithesis of how she'd been raised. She was trying to be understanding towards the faculty, but sometimes they made it so damn hard.

“True,” Jameson winced as they jogged up the incline. “No one really joins the military for their lack of discipline, do they?”

“Haven't heard of any that stupid,” she answered easily as the squad finally entered the dining hall. They all fell silent as they waited in line and then quietly ordered their food before staking out a table and crowding around it. Other groups had started trickling in by that point, building a base level of conversation that slowly had to grow as more noise was added. Kaine paid little attention to anything other than her plate, barely even noticing when Cadet Orenski joined them without a tray but was pulled from her thoughts as two full trays were suddenly put down at the end of the table. Startled, she looked up sharply to see two members of Histati Squad standing at attention while Orenski lectured them. One was a ginger haired male she had never bothered to learn the name of, but the other she knew quite well. Thomas Lasky.

Truthfully, he was looking worse than she felt, and it made sense. His brother's death hadn't truly been long ago, no matter what the ache in her chest said, and he was taking it much harder than she had. Lines of fatigue were starting to etch themselves into his face, making him look far older than he truly was. His hazel eyes were dull and his cheek bones were becoming more prominent; had he been eating? No, of course he hadn't been. Who the hell remembers to eat when they're in the pits of grief?

Realizing Orenski was about to dismiss both males, Kaine felt a surge of panic in her chest. She'd been trying to work up the nerve to speak to Lasky since the funeral; she couldn't let it pass by again. She couldn't fail Cadmon's brother a second time. “Cadet Lasky, stay,” she said sharply, noting the aborted twitch of both males but not finding the need to comment on it. They were only freshman, after all; she couldn't expect the discipline of someone with more experience. Glancing at their Squad Leader, she asked politely, “Do you mind if I speak with Cadet Lasky?” She didn't truly think that she'd be refused, but Eric would give her a lecture if she continued to be rude.

“Permission granted,” Orenski replied smugly, smirk curling the corners of her mouth in a way that was very unflattering. The other senior cadets around them chuckled, but Kaine made sure not to allow any of her irritation to show on her face. Someone at the damn table had to be mature. So, swallowing her automatic retort that she hadn't actually asked for permission, only if Orenski would  _mind_ , she looked back at the freshman. It physically hurt to do so. He looked so much like his brother, and that wound was only barely scabbed over. Still, she owed it to the specter that haunted them both to at least attempt to watch out for the younger soldier.

"Where did you get those blisters from, Cadet?" she asked bluntly, noting everyone's sudden shift at her words. Did they truly not see them?! Were they blind? Orenski above all; she should have noticed how much Lasky was struggling. Or was it just because she knew those blisters so well?

"I'm not sure, Senior Cadet,” Lasky answered, twitching in an obvious attempt to hide the injuries from her gaze. The reaction only made her fight off the desire to narrow her eyes at him. Too open, baring too much of his heart on his sleeve. If he didn't learn to lie convincingly, and soon, he'd have no place in the military. Although, that might have been her own jaded background speaking.

"You're not sure?” she echoed, allowing every ounce of disbelief she felt to color her tone. “That blister covers the whole side of your hand, cadet. And I'm sure you have more that are covered by the uniform. Blisters on your feet are normal. Blisters on the palm of your hand and your fingertips are normal. The two blisters I've seen, the one on the side of your hand and the one on your neck, are not. Now, what is wrong with you?" All of the senior cadets were shifting around by then, finally picking out the injuries that had been so painfully obvious since the first time she'd glanced at him three days ago. Blind morons, the lot of them. And she refused to believe that she'd think differently if she had been raised with lower standards.

"Dr. Hughes thinks the blisters come from the cryo training, Senior Cadet,” the freshman replied, clearly nervous. Not as blatant a lie, based on his body language, but a lie nonetheless. She finally allowed the glare to form on her face. This cadet was a liability to every member of his squad in his current condition and he couldn't even report honestly as to his state. What the hell were they teaching new cadets?! How to bluff your way through serious medical issues?!

“And the difficulty breathing?” she queried, eyes nearly daring him to lie to her. There was a flash of panic in his eyes and she realized she'd probably crossed the line again. Hoping to cover it quickly, she glanced down at her place with disinterest and continued, “I can understand your squad not noticing the blisters, but surely they would realize that something was wrong when you couldn't keep up while running in formation.” Except they hadn't, and she knew they hadn't, but she wasn't supposed to be that observant, so she had to ask.

“He is unsure, Senior Cadet.” An honest answer at last. Too bad it was the only one that actually did tell her nothing. “At the moment he seems to be of the opinion that it is taking my body longer to adjust to the cryo training than the average time.” Ah...cryo. So that  _had_  been the start of all of this. It also fit perfectly in the timeline of the injuries she'd noticed.

"Get the blisters looked at again, Cadet,” she finally said, shaking her head and flapping her hand in a dismissive gesture. “If you go into a fight injured you'll only be a burden and a liability to your team. And figure out what is causing your breathlessness. You haven't been in cryo at all today, and you're still struggling to breathe right.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she winced and wanted to take them back. Dammit, hadn't she slipped enough for one conversation?! At this rate, he'd think she was a stalker. Residual loyalty to his brother or not, this was bordering on creepy.

“Understood, Senior Cadet,” he answered sharply, and she could only nod as a dismissal. Lasky and his teammate performed an acceptable about-face and started walking, but before Kaine could turn back to her food and fend off the inquiries she knew she'd be facing, she caught a whisper that made her blood run cold.

"Must be tough on your mom. Her real son is never coming home." Anger rushed through the redhead's veins and she looked up sharply, ready to tear the other cadet to pieces for daring to even think about disrespecting Cadmon's memory, let alone trying to use the words to hurt Thomas, but she paused when she noticed the tension in Lasky. Humans can only be pushed so far...

By the time Lasky's elbow had slammed backwards into the other cadet's face, Kaine was up and leaving the table, easily dodging as people started reacting to the fight. In fact, she was almost all the way down the hall before Colonel Mehaffey ran past her, expression thunderous. Lasky would pay for starting the fight...but probably not as much as he would expect. Hell, he was at the Corbulo Academy of Military Science. His instructors would probably offer grateful sacrifices to their gods that he has finally proven that he has a soldier's heart.

But would Cadmon approve? He always said he wanted Thomas to behave and do his best so that he could...no, it didn't matter. Cadmon was gone. His wishes didn't apply any longer.

By the time Beta Squad had caught up with Kaine, she was on the transport that would take them to the combat training location that Sierra Squad was just then being briefed on. None of them asked where she had been, instead settling for small smiles and quiet words of greeting. She didn't respond, she never did, but that clearly wasn't as effective a deterrent as she'd originally hoped.

“Listen up, Beta!” Jameson barked, getting to his feet and standing firm in the truck as the driver keyed the engine and they started out. “Sierra Squad is running their final combat exercise of the semester today. Their objective is simple. Get from Point A to Point B. Our objective is equally simple. Cause as much chaos and havoc as we can to prevent Sierra from completing their objective.” He paused to let the cadets chuckle before continuing, “To the best of my knowledge, Sierra has not been informed that Cadet Faldon is with us today. Therefore, at absolutely no time is anyone to speak of her over the COMs. Understood?”

“Understood, Squad Leader,” they all answered promptly, several with slightly evil grins on their faces. Even Kaine rolled her eyes in an amused way. General Black had a penchant for making her a secret weapon, and it was starting to happen uncomfortably frequent. Eric had sworn that he hadn't mentioned where she'd come from but...maybe Black was just lucky? Or she was extremely unlucky. Both were equally viable.

Speech evidently done, Jameson sat back down, directly across from the redhead. She answered his grin with a raised eyebrow, which only succeeded in making him laugh. Of all the people to be immune to her naturally threatening aura, why did it have to be a jokester? “I want you high,” he told her, smile shifting into a mischievous smirk. “Sierra has no idea that anyone with sniper training is in Beta, so they won't be expecting you.”

“They aren't expecting me at all,” she pointed out, even as she felt a slight smile grow on her own face. The psychologist could say whatever he wanted, but she absolutely loved being a sniper. There was something about the power when there was an unsuspecting victim in her sights that was addictive.

“True enough,” Jameson chuckled, but he leaned back instead of changing her orders, so he wasn't reassigning her. That was fine. Better to be a sniper and have time to herself than to be stuck with several slower cadets.

It didn't take long to reach the drop-off point where Beta unloaded, and Kaine barely waited for the truck to drive off before she grabbed the sniper pack and was loping into the forest undergrowth, hearing the rest of the squad sarcastically bidding her farewell. Mere minutes later she was deep in the forest, drifting in a quiet bubble as she allowed her instincts to take over. Her stride lengthened and her senses sharpened to the point that she took care to step over the small mouse by the creek rather than step on its den entrance and trapping it within.

“ _You're such a softy,_ ” the voice in her head chimed in, equal parts proud and acidic. “ _I wonder what they would say if they could see you now._ ”

“Just a guess, but I'm thinking curse words and bullets flying through the air,” she snarled, mentally slamming the connection shut, even as it made her left shoulder ache. The words had ruined any chance of a good mood she might have had, so when she finally chose a tree and started climbing, it was with a small thundercloud hovering over her head.

However, the moment she broke the general canopy, Kaine was able to take a deep breath and brush away most of the gloom that was hanging to her skin. The sky was a vibrant blue and the crescent moons were just beginning to fade away. Golden sunlight warmed her skin as she chose a branch and settled upon it, quickly stringing up her pack and beginning to remove the gear she needed. She'd already picked out the small clearing approximately 500 yards away that Sierra would need to move through, so she set up with the space squarely in her sights.

“ _I brought flowers,_ ” the voice said quietly, and for a moment she could smell the same wildflowers that had popped up around the base, no matter how often the instructors pulled them up. “ _Sorry I kept pushing._ ”

“You wouldn't be you if you didn't push,” the redhead sighed, but she didn't close the connection again, so he hesitantly allowed his presence to grow in her mind. “ETA to Sierra?”

“ _Twenty-three minutes; they're moving slowly._ ” Plenty of time to work the tension out of her neck, so that's what she chose to do, after making sure her hood was up to hide her distinctive hair. “ _The ceramics on your vertebra have continued to thicken. Nothing too serious, but I'll need to treat it soon._ ”

“I understand.” And she could certainly feel that his words were true. It took about twice as much force as normal to get her spine to pop and relieve the tension. “I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

“ _You had every right,_ ” it reminded her, pressing a sensation of warmth and forgiveness into her thoughts before carefully retreating. Only once the presence was entirely missing was she able to take a deep breath and open her eyes once more. The times that her thoughts were truly private were rare, so she looked down at her arm, knowing well what was hidden by the fabric. Her scars were intense and still pained her on occasion, though certainly far last than they had in the past. Anymore, it was the memories that made her shy away.

What had made her think that she could survive outside of the project? How could she have ever thought, for even a second, that her siblings were not vital to her very survival? On that note, how could she have seriously considered the idea that she could live out here? Being a civilian wasn't possible, and she'd been sane enough to know that, but now she was wondering if it was possible to be a soldier at all. Maybe she truly did have no future outside of the project. No future away from them. From him.

Movement in the clearing brought Kaine's head up sharply. Sierra's forward scout was moving slowly through the tall grass, almost perfectly camouflaged. If it wasn't for her enhanced eyesight, she likely would have missed him entirely. Not that he mattered. She could shoot him, sure, but that would alert the rest of the squad and they'd take to the trees, making her job harder. Better to allow him passage and pick off those that came after.

Taking care to keep her movements slow to avoid being noticed, not that she thought she would be, the redhead pulled the sniper rifle from her lap and took careful aim. It was the work of a bare second to lock on to the soldier and her finger nearly itched to squeeze the trigger, but she took a deep breath and waited. Eventually, the forward scout vanished back into the underbrush, and she continued to wait. A full minute ticked by before there was more movement and a trio of Sierra soldiers cautiously entered the clearing. There were twenty members of Sierra, just as there was with every squad, and she debated letting them go to draw more into the easy shot, but then she recognized the pin on the far left soldier. Team Leader. Well now, it would be rude to let him go by without sending him a greeting, wouldn't it?

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Hold.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Hold.

Inhale.

Hold.

Squeeze.

The rifle jerked slightly in her hands, caught in the recoil as her ears complained, but she was still able to see the cadet go down in a spray of red. She'd hit him right in the chest plate and stun rounds were vicious; he wouldn't be feeling much for a couple days. However, she had compromised her position, so she quickly slung the rifle over her back and started climbing down to the canopy. The sounds of distant yelling were already working its way through the foliage, so the moment she was low enough, she started using the branches as roads. Running and jumping between the trees was a skill she'd perfected at a very young age, and one that she used to great success on a very consistent basis. Her instructors had always hated when she got up into the trees, because they never knew when or where she'd come jumping down.

But if they could never figure it out, Sierra would certainly not able to. So she ran and jumped and twisted through the branches, pulling closer to the enemy squad instead of away like most snipers would. When she got close enough, she chose a natural blind in the branches and waited. As she held her rifle at the ready she wondered if the Academy ever taught a class on how predictable humans were. Since the academic year had started, she'd been pouring over the personality bios of every cadet. Their habits, their quirks, how they thought through problems, she knew it all. That's why any team that listened to her was undefeated.

Not that she was proud of her abilities. Maybe if they'd come naturally and not from...that place. That  _person_.

But this wasn't the time to think about her past, because Sierra had shown up right on time and were rushing through the underbrush. Sparing a mere second to lament on how humans  _never look up_ , Kaine patiently waited, and by the time her second shot took out a soldier, she was moving through the trees again. From that point, it turned into a game of cat and mouse between Sierra and herself. Three times, the redhead would herd the struggling squad into ambushes set up by the rest of Beta, but for the most part, she danced right outside of their sensors range and picked them off one-by-one. By the time the exercise was called to an end because of time elapsed, there were only two Sierra members still standing.

Making a pit stop at her first tree to reclaim the pack, Kaine made her way back to the rendezvous point for Beta. She was the last to arrive, having traveled the farthest, so by the time she arrived the other cadets were in a joyous haze. Jameson waved at her from his small knot of friends but didn't approach, which she really did appreciate. This after-successful-mission-party was something she'd never been able to wrap her mind around. It just felt...wrong. The instructors would never have allowed such...pointless noise.

Beta Squad was transported back to the Academy grounds and given the rest of the day off as a reward for the success of their mission. As soon as she heard that, Kaine abandoned the other cadets with a wave and something that could have passed for a farewell. She still nearly itched to finish her training routines, but the fields were packed with cadets and instructors, forcing her back to the confines of her room. Not the best place to train, but she could make it work.

“ _Eric is still waiting for a reply to his last message,_ ” the voice chimed in, but before the redhead could reply, her COM station activated and a person was revealed. He looked around the age of forty, with long black hair and vibrant red eyes. His clothes were pristine white and very military in style, though no rank or insignia could be seen. A white band kept his hair pulled away from his face, and revealing the scar on his forehead that always made her wince. But the part that caught her attention was the gun on his hip. He never did explain how he got that. “Well?” the man asked, clearly amused. “Are you going to answer?”

“I've told you not to hack my COM, Vincent,” was her only reply, glaring at him as she tossed her armor on the room's empty bunk. “It was overconfidence that got you trapped by ONI last time, and I'd rather not have a repeat performance.”

“As if that entire affair could ever be repeated,” the man grumbled, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “And you haven't answered the question.”

“Repeat the message to me,” she ordered, moving to the center of the room and beginning to stretch again. “And don't mimic his voice this time. I know what my father sounds like without you butchering it.”

“Spoilsport,” Vincent muttered, watching her closely as she started moving. He would never admit it, but he was slightly concerned about her. The Academy was supposed to be a place for her to learn her place in the galaxy and help her find herself once more. Instead, it was proving to be one of the most complicated cages she'd ever been in...and that was saying something. “ **'Kaine, I've received a message from General Black. He mentioned that you've tested out of several classes we'd previously agreed that you would complete. I know the situation is not ideal, but if you continue to attempt this acceleration of your education, people will begin taking notice. I will not stop you from doing what you feel is needed to remain sane, but I do request that you alert me before taking action so that I may adjust our plans accordingly. Eric.'** ”

“Compose return message,” the redhead ordered, shifting easily from stretching into the basics of unarmed combat. “Eric, my apologies for not telling you about the tests. It was not my intention to test out of those classes, but I had overestimated the level of knowledge my teachers had in those subjects. When I had corrected them multiple times, they gave me the tests. Because of the range of knowledge I had displayed in class, I did not feel comfortable failing on purpose, so I was forced to take the tests seriously. However, all the classes have to do with military history, so my physical abilities remain ambiguous. To that end, I do not believe that our plans are in any serious jeopardy. I will attempt to not repeat my mistakes. Kaine.”

“Nice, short, and frigid,” Vincent mused, quickly sending the reply before she could protest. “I'm sure he'll simply jump for joy when he reads it.”

“I don't recall asking for your opinion!” Kaine snapped, overextending her arm a hair during a punch and making contact with the wall. “And get out of the COM before the Academy AI finds you and our cover is blown.”

“As you wish,” was the sarcastic response before the man dissolved into static and vanished. “ _I'll just annoy you from my chip instead._ ”

“Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to rescue an AI like you?” she snarled, pulling a kick before she actually broke the COM table.

“ _One of life's greatest mysteries._ ” That didn't deserve a verbal reaction, so she settled for mentally flipping him off as her movements slowly sped up. Within minutes she was a blur of strikes and blocks. Sweat was finally forming as she pushed her body, wondering distantly if she would tear any muscles this time. By the time her routine was finished, she was breathing harshly and there was a faint tremble through her body. However, there was also a profound sense of satisfaction when she noted that her body had sustained no serious damage. Perhaps she truly was past the point of her body breaking itself to be made stronger.

It was also late, which she hadn't known until she heard the Academy's AI announce that lights out was in two minutes. There was a brief moment of debate on if she would ignore the rules to take a shower, but it was quickly discarded when she remembered that General Black was already stressed. No one knew why, but he'd been attending nearly five times as many meetings as normal and had been changing several long-standing rules for no reason. Eric had also been tense in their communications, which meant something was very wrong in the UNSC. Something so big, they didn't even alert the cadets of the Military schools, several of which were quickly approaching graduation day. So no, she would be nice for a change and remain in her quarters until the morning formations. Hell, she'd even go to bed on time instead of using the pad Eric had left her. At least, that was the plan, and as she lay on the bed and felt herself falling into unconsciousness, she wondered why she had such a hatred for sleep.

* * *

 

“ _Hey, I won fair and square! If you're going to pout, do it somewhere else so I don't have to see your stupid face.” I grit my teeth, knowing if I punched her smirking face like I wanted, Mother would be disappointed in me again. She just made me so mad sometimes! And she'd totally cheated during that race!_

“ _I'm not pouting!” I growled back, clenching my fists. “And you did too cheat, Lillian. You always cheat when we race. It's not going to kill you to lose for once.”_

“ _The best never lose,” my twin snarled, face turning ugly at my words. Why was she always so competitive? Did winning honestly mean that much to her? Then maybe she should stop challenging me to tests that she knows I'm better at!_

_But it's not like any of my friends are around, so there's little I can do about this race. Her friends are all watching, laughing at me because they know I can't stop her. On school grounds, Lillian reigns supreme. We're even at home, which is why she rarely bothers me there, but here I'm the lowest ranked of the child social ladder. So I have to give in, turning my back and trying really hard not to listen to their laughter or letting the tears fall._

_The swings were abandoned, so I go there and sit on the highest one, moodily kicking at the ground with my head bowed while the other kids play around me. Recess won't last much longer, and then I'll be able to get away from everyone, but until the bell rings, I just have to hold on._

_Suddenly, the chatter around the yard changes and I look up. There's a new woman in the yard, and she looks really weird. Her hair is dark, maybe black or brown, and she's not pale. Blue eyes, though it's hard to tell with that stupid sunhat on. Pretty, but there's something about her...I can't stand it. I can't stand_ her _. But she's talking to Lillian, and the sight makes me mad. What does Lillian have that I don't? Why does everyone act like she's better at everything?! She's not! I'm faster, better at math and reading, and I know how to survive in the forest while she just knows how to scream for rescue!_

_Is it because Lills always has to win? Most people don't know that I'm better simply because she cheats to beat me. So maybe...if I was competitive for once, would someone notice me? I had to know, so I got up and came over. The lady is still talking to Lillian, telling her about a game with a coin. She flips the metal circle and I watch. It almost seems to move in slow motion, and just before the woman catches it, I yell, “Heads!”_

_I was right._

_The lady gives me the coin, a strange look on her face, and I want to run away from her, but Lillian is shoving her away and yelling that I'd cheated. How could I? It was a game of luck, wasn't it? That's what the teacher says, and Father agrees when he picks us up. But Lills won't let it go and keeps insisting that I'd stolen the coin from her. Mother finally gets tired of our argument and sends us to our rooms; my twin yells, “I hate you!” I yell it back. Drift off to sleep, staring at the coin and feeling so warm and happy that I'd finally beaten my twin at her own game._

_Hands are grabbing me. I'm fighting, trying to scream, there's a hand over my mouth. They're pulling me out of the window. Please, no! Don't take me. Mother! Father! Lillian! Please!_

* * *

 

“ _WAKE UP!_ ”

Kaine wakes with a gasp, nearly throwing herself from her bunk as she scrambles for the bathroom. She barely makes it to the toilet before her stomach violently empties itself. There are tears on her cheeks, but she can't do anything about them as she continues to heave. Her entire body is shaking and she eventually realizes that she's keening, but it still takes several minutes to remember where she was and what had happened.

“Fucking dammit,” she coughed, wiping the dribble of vomit from her lip as she finally gained enough control to lean away from the toilet and rest against the wall. “I thought I was passed this.” Her mind was still echoing with Lillian's voice and the thought of those hands on her was enough to make her shudder. “Vincent, time?”

“ _0412,_ ” was the quiet reply. She could feel him moving carefully through her mind and appreciated his concern. Episodes like this didn't happen on a regular basis, but when they did he always understood the need to treat her with kid gloves. “ _Do you think you'll be able to rest anymore?_ ”

“Doubtful,” she groaned, slowly levering herself off the floor. It was more a fall than any controlled movement, but she wound up leaning against the sink and staring into the mirror. Her heart always ached to see all the changes that she'd been put through; all the little things that made her not look like Lillian anymore. The scars...the unnatural paleness of her skin...her eyes...damn, she hated her eyes. Her mother had always said her eyes had the magic and life of a new spring. Now they were as cold and manufactured as the rest of her. “What are my orders for the day?”

“ _Nothing. General Black has given you the day off since you tested out of those classes._ ”

“Understood.” She quickly filled the sink with water and scrubbed her face, trying to banish the lingering shadows of the dream...the memory. “Pull up any uncompleted homework on the desk so that I can work.” He didn't respond to that, but she felt a brief pressure that she'd learned was his version of a hug. It was so tentative, she paused and tried to figure out what she'd done wrong. Thinking back on the last few days, she had to wince. “And I'm sorry. I've been unfairly short with you.”

“ _You've been grieving,_ ” he countered gently. “ _Anna wasn't something you were ready to deal with. No one can fault you for being touchy. Besides, it's not as though they ever taught any of you how to properly express and work through emotions._ ”

“If you're able to insult my instructors, I know you're fine,” Kaine teased back, surprised to find her small smile wasn't entirely faked. Maybe they were all right and she just needed some time. Much as she hated to admit it. “And no hacking into General Black's files. He has enough on his plate without dealing with you.” Mental pout. “Oh, cry me a digital river.”

“ _Damn, your humor is archaic._ ” She didn't bother responding, but the smile on her face genuinely grew.

Several hours later, the redhead was up to her virtual eyeballs in tactics homework, trying to forget the advanced techniques she'd been taught and instead focusing on the basics that were presented at the Academy. There was a deep sense of frustration that she always had to dial herself back at one of the best military academies in the UNSC, but she kept reminding herself that she couldn't honestly expect every soldier to be on her level. After all, her level shouldn't even exist. Her focus was so centered on her school work, Kaine physically jumped when there was a knock on her door. She hadn't even noticed when it had slid open as the school had started, but when she turned to look it was to find Dr. Hughes watching her. “Doctor?” she said, utterly confused. “Is something wrong?”

“I was hoping you can help me, Cadet Faldon,” Hughes answered, gesturing for her to follow as he started down the hall. She scrambled to obey, barely remembering to grab her jacket and supply bag before she was hurrying after him. “Do you know Cadet Lasky?”

“In passing, sir,” she replied, confusion not fading in the slightest. “I was friends with his brother and know him by sight, but we haven't spoken much.”

“He collapsed during a training exercise,” he told her bluntly, not looking back as she nearly stumbled in surprise. “He'd reported being short of breath recently, but when I ran some tests, we learned that he's allergic to the cytoprethaline. Your file says you have the same allergy; I was hoping you could help answer the questions he's sure to have.”

“I'll do what I can, sir,” she choked out, feeling like there was a hand around her throat. Her mind flashed back to the first time she'd been exposed to cryo in training. The terror, as she'd felt her throat swell shut. The panic, when she realized she couldn't pull in a breath. And Lasky had been going through that alone. Perhaps it had never reached lethal levels like hers had, but still. “How serious is his allergy, sir?” Silence was her only answer.

The redhead followed the CMO into Cadet Lasky's room, barely able to look at the pale boy on the bed. With her own memories running rampant in her mind, she knew that the last thing he needed was for someone to be fussing over him, so she projected a sensation of calm and sat on the spare bed, pulling a pad out of the bag and settling down to do some more homework. Hughes had resumed his examination, and it wasn't long before she heard the teenager hiss and cough. “What happened?” he asked, voice so rough that Kaine couldn't help but wince. Probably felt like his throat had been scrubbed with sandpaper.

“You passed out during a training exercise,” the CMO replied, voice distant and professional. Considering the concern he'd been clearly displaying before, the female couldn't help but be impressed.

“My chest feels like it's on fire,” Lasky barely breathed, still wincing.

“Turns out, the cryo blisters and your difficulty breathing are an allergic reaction to the cytoprethaline,” Hughes explained. “It's a drug we inject to keep ice crystals from forming in your cells during cryosleep. Occurs in about one in every fifty thousand, or so.” Interesting. No one had ever told Kaine that, before.

“ _Didn't want you thinking you were any more of a freak._ ” Gee, thanks, Vincent. “ _You're welcome._ ”

“So I won't be able to breathe every time I wake up from cryosleep,” the male cadet summarized, hopelessness clear and bright in his voice. It was almost enough to bring tears to the redhead's eyes. The brother of Cadmon should never sound so defeated.

“The intensity of your allergy is still undetermined,” Hughes argued, but he had the same note of failure clinging to his words. “I'll know more in a few hours. I want you to take it really easy the rest of the day, Cadet. In the meantime,” he rose to his feet, looking as uncomfortable as everyone in the room felt, “I've brought Cadet Faldon to talk to you.” Lasky looked over sharply, wincing at the pain it caused but not turning away when he finally caught sight of the redhead. “Faldon has the same allergy; she can answer most of your questions while I run some more tests.” Then he left, barely pausing long enough to nod at the female, completely unaware that she was mentally cursing at him. Just because she had the allergy didn't mean she'd ever been taught about it!

Awkward silence fell upon the room once the adult was gone, but it was finally broken when Lasky sighed. “Why are you here, Senior Cadet?” he asked, apparently unaware of just how rough his voice was.

“Dr. Hughes just told you, Cadet,” she answered bluntly, trying to keep her frustration out of her voice. Eric had always complained about her bedside manner, and she'd never bothered working on it since she'd never thought she'd have to provide this type of care. “I'm here to answer questions.” Not that she could. “However, if you'd rather rest and think through things yourself, that's fine too.” Please choose that answer. And it seemed like he would, because he lapsed back into silence as she returned to reading. However, he kept staring at her, so she eventually looked back up at him. “Rest, Lasky. I'm here if you need me.”  _That_  seemed to get through, because he finally closed his eyes and, minutes later, was fast asleep.

The hours ticked by, and Kaine continued to do her work quietly while the brunette cadet slept. When her homework for the next week was finished, she had Vincent hack the UNSC HQ and started working on her personal research, though that came to a screeching halt when the room door slid open and Cadet Chyler Silva slipped in. A tense moment passed where the female soldiers stared at each other, Silva clearly glaring and Faldon nearly apathetic, but the moment defused when the redhead looked back to her pad and started her millionth game of chess. However, she looked up sharply when Cadmon's voice suddenly rang out through the room. It was through sheer force of will that she didn't leap to her feet, instead looking over to see Silva at the COM station. There was a momentary flash of frustration that the cadet would disrespect her friend's privacy in such a way, but it was hardly her place to rebuke the other female. So she elected, instead, to ignore everything in the room until she actually had a reason to step in.

That decision was sorely tested when the sound of his brother's voice brought Lasky awake. She tried, she really did, to ignore it as the two freshmen bickered between themselves, but Kaine nearly growled when the stubborn boy tried to push himself up out of bed when another Histati member suddenly messaged him. “What's up, Sully?” Lasky asked, bringing the entire moment back into sharp relief.

“Get in here; you guys have got to see this,” was the response, voice nearly bursting with excitement. The redhead wanted to believe that her current charge would be intelligent and stay in bed obeying the CMO's orders, but she knew he was too much like his brother. So, instead to complaining when he got to his feet, she simply turned her pad off and rose herself, gesturing sarcastically towards the door when the pair stared at her. However, she had miscalculated the move and had to jerk her hand forward sharply to avoid touching the wall. The last thing any of them needed was for her to accidentally put a new hole in a cement room. And, if the frown was any indication, Lasky had noticed the correction.

Trying to be positive, Kaine followed the Histati cadets down the hall to the room that she vaguely recalled belonging to Cadet Sullivan and Cadet Tchakova. The rest of the squad, minus Orenski, was already present, and she noted the tense looks some of them were giving Lasky, as well as clear expressions of confusion as to why she was there at all, but when nobody told her to leave, she chose to lean against the wall in a way that clearly communicated that she was bored.

“Okay, so feast your eyes on Grade-A, classified, non-illicit intelligence vids I pieced together,” the cadet sitting before the COM said excitedly, nearly vibrating and smiling so wide his cheeks simply  _had_  to hurt. The claim was so grandiose, Kaine couldn't take him seriously and snorted in obvious disbelief. However, she also noted that she was the only one that doubted. “Super pain in the ass to do,” the cadet, it had to be Sullivan, continued, pushing the play command, “but so worth it.”

The recording, when it began, was nothing special. Standard quality HUD camera, showing a narrow hall and recording someone running. There was a slight discrepancy with perception distortion, but that wasn't unheard of in older models. She could pick up the sounds of yelling buried underneath the distant gunfire, but there was also the odd roar that didn't make sense. Rocket? Missile launchers? None of the weapons she knew made those noises. “This is beyond top secret,” a female that the redhead vaguely recognized as Tchakova nearly purred.

“I've never seen something encrypted so hard, but I cracked it,” Sullivan continued to boast. It felt empty; there was nothing so far that indicated this was anything more than a standard raid operation against an Insurrection base. A boring operation to boot. She'd had training exercises more complicated than this running-down-the-hall thing. But then,

“ _Target located._ ”

John.

White hot panic instantly flooded Kaine's body and she had to lock her body down or risk accidentally killing someone. Every sense was on alert, focused entirely on the video that had continued to play. She could barely hear herself breathing, unable to comprehend anything other than the energy that was racing about under her skin, screaming that she shouldn't be standing still. He was in pain; she'd know that tone anywhere, so why the hell was she just standing there?! “ _Target acquired._ ” Oh gods, she needed to move. Needed to get away. She couldn't stand here, couldn't keep listening. Someone had hurt him; she had to find him! But there were bodies pressed around her, keeping her pinned against the wall. He wouldn't want her to hurt innocents...so what could she do? “ _Squad, we have an unknown hostile._ ” She twitched; she couldn't stop herself from reacting. Something was wrong. There was a snag. He hated snags, but she'd always been there to smooth things out. That's how they worked. He made the plans, she made them work. But she wasn't there. Dammit, she wasn't there! “ _Falling back._ ” Retreat? But they never retreat.

Someone next to Kaine suddenly leaned away, taking away a subconscious barrier from her panicked thoughts and she had to refocus long enough to see the frozen image on the screen. Everything snapped back into reality and she remembered where she was. This was nothing more than a recording; she couldn't do anything other than watch. So, though it hurt to realize just how much she'd failed, she tried to focus on what she could see. The armor meant nothing to her, but those numbers, so barely in the frame at all, nearly brought her entire mind to a fiery wreck. “Fred.” The name dropped from her lips before she could stop it, weighted down with all of her hatred and grief. They had been in danger. They'd retreated. She hadn't been there.

Oh gods, she hadn't been there.

“ _It is now 1800,_ ” the Academy AI suddenly chimed across the intercom systems. “ _All cadets, report to the mess hall._ ” Histati obeyed willingly, leaving Sullivan's room while talking excitedly about what they'd just witnessed. Kaine let them pass, unable to tear her gaze away from the final image being displayed on the projection, fighting the urge to reach out and touch. She knew it was nothing more than light, that there was no substance, but dammit all, didn't she deserve to at least touch him one more time! After everything fate and the universe had put her through, didn't she deserve at least this? But it was nothing but a dream, and she knew it, so she finally left and walked down the hall, trailing behind Lasky as he glanced at her worryingly. Clearly, he shared his brother's heightened perceptional abilities.

In the mess hall, the senior cadet sat with Histati, waving their questions away by tersely informing them that Dr. Hughes had told her to remain with the brunette until he said otherwise. The fact that he actually never indicated how long she should watch the boy didn't matter. All she wanted right then was to finish her dinner in peace as she wrestled with the demons lurking in her memories. So she valiantly ignored them, convincing herself that she had to stay where she was as she fixed the silverware that she was bending out of shape with her grip when Silva's voice cut through her mental fog with, “Guys, you're missing the point. What matters is that our soldiers were fighting alongside the Insurrectionists. Why would we protect the enemy?”

“You must have missed the fact that whatever they were running from was strong enough to throw a fully grown and armored man through the air and into a wall,” Kaine snapped, feeling her anger peak in a dangerous way as she slammed the spoon against the table and glared at the staring students. Ever since she'd arrived at the Academy, she'd had to suffer through narrow-minded opinions of war and enemies, but she could only be pushed so far. “Clearly, whatever they were facing was a threat to both Insurrectionist and UNSC forces. It's simple logic to ally yourself with people that  _aren't_  trying to kill you in the face of something that  _is._ ” She focused her glare on Silva, feeling the rage buzzing just under her skin, like a current of electricity. “The universe isn't black and white, Silva. You might find yourself in a situation, some day, where the only way you and your men will survive is if you work with someone you consider an enemy. Will you damn your men to death because you are too proud to let go of a grudge?” The table was silent, with no one willing to answer her challenge. Silva, especially, was looking away. For a moment, it looked like Lasky would be the only one not suddenly wrestling with his own morals, but then they were suddenly interrupted.

“Cadet Lasky!” Every cadet looked up sharply as Dr. Hughes came to a stop at their table. “Colonel Mehaffey would like to see you.” The redhead felt the dread set in as she realized it had to be about the allergy. For the Colonel herself to be delivering the news...it had to be bad. However, when she rose to follow Lasky out of the hall, she was stopped by the CMO gently touching her shoulder. “I understand you want to help him,” the man said quietly, kindly, “but the boy needs to go through this on his own. It's the only way for him to know his decision is truly his.”

Bull.

Shit.

But it wasn't like she could argue with the man, so she reluctantly nodded and left the cafeteria, going in the opposite direction of the other cadet. Though she knew it was after hours, she snuck out of the building and started to wander the grounds, lost in thoughts and regrets. Time ticked by with no consideration of the struggles that were being confronted until the redhead realized she should probably go inside. Her nerves and anger had finally drained away, leaving her tired and itching with the electric sensation dancing right under her...

...wait...

...oh no.

Kaine looked around frantically, spinning in a circle as she tried to determine where the sensation was coming from. It was building slowly, eating away at her nerves with a ferocity she hadn't experienced in a little over a year. But no matter how much she tried to focus, it wouldn't give her a direction. No indication of what was coming, or from where. All she knew was all she'd ever known from the damn energy. There was danger nearby. And to make her itch like this, it had to be immense.

“Dammit, trainee, calm down,” she hissed under her breath, forcing herself to stand still once more. Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe deeply, knowing panic would make everything harder. “You're smart enough to use the tools,” she exhaled, remembering how the Chief's face would scrunch up when he had to remind them of that fact. “Use them. Don't  _be_  used by them. Gather what you know and use your brains.” Alright then.

Fact #1: There was a large source of danger nearby the Academy.

Fact #2: She was unable to use her 'danger sense' to locate the danger's location.

Conclusion# 1: There was no direction if the Academy is surrounded.

Conclusion #2: The danger must be lurking in the forest that surrounds the Academy.

Conclusion #3: She had to get to the forest.

It never even occurred to her that she should head away from the danger. As soon as she'd realized what was likely happening, she was running full speed through the Academy buildings. Vincent sent a barely formed question of if they were going to warn anyone, but what was she to say? That the supernatural power she'd had since birth was telling her that they were all in mortal peril? If General Black didn't call a psychologist on her just for that, he certainly would when she recommended an evacuation with no proof.

However, as the redhead approached the school's perimeter, she slowed to a stop and stared. As a military center, despite the education angle, there were always guards patrolling the borders...but this was insane. More guards than she'd known existed at the school at all were pacing about in patrol patterns. Unbidden, several changes that the Academy's ranking officers had recently been implementing returned to the front of her mind. COM blackouts, early lockdowns, increased patrols, decreased training field hours. And everyone with a pair of eyes and more than two brain cells knew that General Black had been getting more and more stressed in the last month. Could it be that the danger she was now feeling was an attack they'd known was coming?

But who would know that an Academy was being attacked and not instantly evacuate all of the students? It wasn't like they were an actual military base; their soldier numbers had limits. Nothing but questions and Kaine hated questions, so she turned back towards the Academy buildings with a huff. She was still too antsy to actually return to her room, but it wouldn't do to be caught off grounds with so many new soldiers around. The campus guards knew not to shoot her; the new guards...not so much. Instead, she detoured to a spot just outside the motor pool, jumping onto a shipping container she knew to be a favorite perch of the Laskys. Cadmon had told her about it before...everything.

Truthfully, the redhead didn't know how she was supposed to help Cadet Lasky anymore. An allergy to cytoprethaline wasn't something that could, or should, be taken lightly. It was only because of her unique training and circumstances that she was staying in the UNSC. For someone like Lasky, this allergy could shatter every hope he had left of becoming a soldier.

However, an allergy to cytoprethaline was not an automatic discharge, as much as she sometimes felt it should be. He'd have a choice to make, and it was probably the hardest choice of his young life. That was part of the reason she'd gone to his 'spot'. Not knowing how to help him did not absolve her of the duty she had to provide what answers and aide that she could.

Sure enough, mere minutes after settling onto the crate and laying back to look at the sky, Kaine heard someone scramble up onto the metal container. From the rough breathing, she knew who it had to be. “I figured you'd come out eventually,” she said easily, not moving as the other cadet came to sit next to her. “I talked to Dr. Hughes after you left,” she continued, lying through her teeth. “He told me about the recommendation he gave to Black and Mehaffey. Full honorable medical discharge.” A safe bet, from what she knew of the officers and the allergy. After all, it was impossible to test for cytoprethaline allergy; either the cadets handled it fine or shit went to Hell in a hand basket. There was very little middle ground. And when she heard the crinkle of paper as Lasky made a fist, she knew she was right. “Are you going to sign it?”

“Whatever happened to patient confidentiality?” the male cadet muttered, drawing an amused smile onto the redhead's face. Subtle, that certainly was not.

“Remember, Dr. Hughes thinks I can help you,” she chided, sitting up as she reluctantly acknowledged that staring at the stars wasn't going to help her identify the danger. All she could feel was that there was a threat above them as well, but Insurrectionists had ships just as much as the UNSC did. So she settled for glaring at the forest, cursing it for being beyond her reach, before turning to the boy. “Do you have any questions about what you should do?”

“Why did you stay?” he asked instead, seeming to startle himself just as much as her. Still, she couldn't help but chuckle. Probably a good thing the kid wasn't going into ONI; he would be eaten alive.

“I stayed because this is what I'm meant to do, Lasky. Being a soldier is the path that was chosen for me and I'm helpless to do anything but follow it.” Uncomfortable with the subject, Kaine allowed her gaze to drift back to the distant forest. If she glared at it hard enough, would it reveal its secrets? “I've defied my fate as much as I can, choosing how, when, and where I would be a soldier, but I can't escape my ultimate destination. When I learned about my allergy, it wasn't a way out for me. It was just another bloody obstacle that I had to face and overcome.” Despite her unease, she knew how important the conversation was, so she forced herself to look back at the cadet. “It is a way out for you, Lasky. I'm sure Colonel Mehaffey gave you the talk about how your memories and your choices are ultimately all you'll have left in the end. How does she put it? 'At the end of the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box.'” From the snort, she was pretty sure she'd guessed right. Gods knew, her own Instructor had used the phrase often enough. “If you stay in the UNSC, you will go into cryo again. Every time you do, there is a risk of you dying. If you don't die, you will be a liability to whatever group you are a part of, because they will need to protect you while you're vulnerable.”

“Sounds like you're telling me to get out,” Lasky said, a touch of bitterness in his tone. That hadn't been the intention, so the redhead forced a laugh that actually sounded vaguely honest.

“Does it?” she chuckled. “Well, that's not what I'm saying at all. I'm just telling you what you're risking by staying in. Now I'll show you what you're gambling by getting out.” Reaching into the pocket that she always carried the small stack in, she pulled out the photos and handed them over. “Sorry they're not digital. I'm a bit old-fashioned.” She had to look away as the brunette started flipping through the images. After all the years she'd had them, she'd memorized every one. Men, women, children, all candid captures of smiles and relief. Her chest ached with the knowledge of the entire story, but Lasky didn't need all of it.

“Why are you showing me these?” the cadet asked, voice subdued and considering.

“Those are people who probably would have died if Lieutenant Michael Jarvis had allowed his allergy to cytoprethaline stop him from becoming an ODST,” she answered quietly, barely able to glance at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Jarvis was the person Dr. Hughes called to talk to me when he discovered my allergy.” A lie, may Jarvis forgive her. “He basically had the same talk with me that I'm having with you.” Seeing that the boy had gone through every photo, she carefully took them back and returned the stack to her pocket. “Those people were being held by Insurrectionists in a hostage situation. Jarvis dropped behind enemy lines and managed to rescue all of them. He gave me the photos to remind me of the good that comes from staying, despite the risks.”

She couldn't keep still any longer, so she tried laying back and looking back up at the stars. Something was so clearly wrong with what she could see, but just what was off still escaped her. “That's amazing,” Lasky finally said after a moment of silence. “What happened to him?”

“He died a month after talking to me,” Kaine replied with a shrug, trying for nonchalance, but her voice caught regardless. “The allergy finally caught up with him and his lungs shut down. He was dead before they could get him out of the cryo tube.” The image was still seared into her mind, watching the Instructors pulling his body from the tube. It had been the first time she'd cried in years.

The energy beneath her skin surged to the point of pain, making her quickly twist and roll to her feet, balance carefully controlled. Lasky was staring at her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The attack she'd been feeling was about to break; she had to get him to safety. “This isn't a game, Lasky. You will be gambling with your life if you stay. But maybe by staying, you'll keep other people alive. It's a thin line to walk, and one you need to consider carefully.” Dammit, she was starting to sound like her Grandfather. That wouldn't do, so she forced a laugh that was far too short. “Listen to me. I sound like one of those really old men that think they know everything just because there's a generation or two of difference between them and you.” Sorry, Grandfather, but it's true. So she faked a smile and looked down at the still sitting boy. “It's your life, Tom. Do what you want.” Another surge, almost enough to make her hiss, and she had to look back at the forest. Was the enemy advancing? She couldn't hear any sounds of warning. “You should get inside.”

“Why?” the brunette challenged, sounding so much like his brother for a second that Kaine almost couldn’t breathe. “And what is your name? I mean, your first name? I can't keep calling you Senior Cadet.”

She tried to smirk, aiming for making him angry, before loping away with the hope that he'd follow. “Gut instinct for the first,” she called over her shoulder. “Kaine for the second.” However, the second she leapt off the crate and landed, the alarm went off. The sound made her freeze for a fraction of a second as dread settled against her bones. Eric had told her about that alarm, but she'd never thought she'd actually hear it.

The Academy was under attack.

Knowing that Lasky would seek shelter, because he  _was_  intelligent despite what some might think, Kaine started running. She chaffed as she held back, but it wouldn't do to distract the guards in a combat situation. Letting go of her control would be highly inadvisable just then.

Following the shouts to head toward the Tether, the redhead weaved through the crowds, glancing over her shoulder occasionally to track Cadmon's brother until she lost him. Everywhere she looked, chaos and fear were taking a strong hold. Cadets were shoving each other, shouting in confusion and fear, some even ran face-first into walls. Didn't these people ever have evacuation drills? No, no they didn't, and she should know considering how long she'd been there.

“Cadet Faldon!” Kaine came to a quick stop, looking around for the caller until she finally spotted Colonel Mehaffey. It took a moment to work her way over, but once she had the older woman nearly dragged her into a small alcove. “You're with Beta for now,” the officer said, pitching her voice to be heard over the crowd. “I need you to keep your eyes open, though. No matter what Black says, we aren't ready for this. I'm depending on you.”

“Me?” the redhead couldn't help but question, despite the situation. She did have a reputation to maintain, after all. “I've only been in the Academy for a year, and have made it my personal mission to piss off every teacher here. Why are you depending on me?”

“Because I know what you are,” was the exasperated answer, eyes filled with a complicated frustration that was difficult to fully understand. “Or I have an idea, at least. My cousin told me about people like you. You probably knew her as May.”

If she'd been given a decade of warning, the cadet couldn't have prevented her flinch at the name. She felt tiny again, looking up at the adult, wondering if the smile meant mental or physical pain that day. A hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to breathe again. The abstract terror of waking up in the dark of night, staring up at that smile. Even knowing she never risked death wasn't helpful. And Mehaffey was her  _cousin_?!

Actually...that made a frightening amount of sense.

But the middle of an emergency situation wasn't the place or time to have a mental breakdown. The Colonel had given her assignment, so standing around and staring wasn't the best idea. So though it took more brainpower than it really should have, Kaine saluted and turned to run down the hall again. She could see Jameson up ahead, keeping his squad together despite the chaos and confusion around them all. He didn't notice when she slipped in beside him at first, but he certainly jumped high enough when he happened to glance over his shoulder at her. “Damn it, woman! How does a giant like you move so silently?!”

“You don't want to know,” she answered tightly, glancing around the assembled cadets. Some were doing a good job of acting like they weren't terrified out of their ever loving minds. Others would have fit in perfectly in the old style mental asylums, complete with curling into balls and rocking back and forth while sobbing silently. Frustration, disgust, and sympathy warred in the redhead's chest as she tried to remember what it was like to not be used to battle. All things considered, this was one of the calmest evacuations she'd ever experienced. Then someone knocked into her back, making her stumble as the person hurried onward. When she glanced over, it wasn't as much of a shock as it should have been to see one of the Histati members heading straight for the wagon. It was full, but everyone at the Academy knew that Histati was made of the 'special' children; the offspring of high-ranked UNSC officials. Made sense that one wanted to use their parents to get early evacuation. Tchakova, unless there was another female with platinum hair.

The damn energy under her skin wasn't quieting down, leaving the redhead to shift restlessly. She could hear ODST pods dropping and wondered absently if Eric was in orbit above them, but it was a passing thought. Most of her focus circled around keeping herself under control and not running back out to face the enemy.

“ _This doesn't make any_ sense _!_ ” Vincent snarled in her mind, allowing his anger and frustration to brush against her own thoughts. “ _I can't pick up_ any  _Insurrection chatter about this attack. Even the UNSC aren't using their usual code words. And what the hell is a_ Jackal _?_ ”

The wagon had sealed and begun its ascent up the Tether, right in sync with another surge of energy. Horrified gasps from farther back made Kaine look over quickly. There was barely time to notice that Lasky had a look of utter terror on his face before the damn electricity in her skin turned to ice. It was so sudden, so absolute, her entire body stalled for a long second. Maybe a second too long.

The ground shook, making several cadets stumble in surprise. Above the shouts and screams, the redhead could hear the groans of the Tether and the snapping of cables. “ _Run!_ ” the AI roared in her mind, and this time she was quick to react. She grabbed Jameson and nearly threw him towards the exit, yelling at everyone to move in a battle roar that she'd picked up from Eric. It wasn't enough. The ruined remains of the Tether crashed into the corridor, smothering many cadets instantly. Even Kaine was struggling, though that didn't stop her from grabbing Lasky when he nearly fell and dragged him past the danger zone before having to drop him. She'd already lost one brother, dammit all; she was  _not_  losing another.

Breaking free of the hall was like jumping straight into a nightmare. UNSC forces were engaged in battle with...her mind stalled out. Those couldn't be what she thought they were...right?

“ _That answers the question about sentient aliens,_ ” Vincent snarled in her mind, “ _and what the hell are you doing, freezing on a battlefield?! WAKE UP!_ ” Jerked back into awareness, the redhead quickly snagged a fallen rifle and raced across the grounds. It only took a couple shots to realize that the aliens had some sort of shield. A handful of bullets later, and she knew exactly where to shoot to collapse their protection. Unfortunately, for everyone, the other soldiers weren't faring as well, and soon she was tripping over bodies as she ran from cover to cover.

“Fuck!” she yelled, barely managing to dodge a purple spike that had been aimed at her chest. She'd seen enough of the damn things explode to know that she didn't want it anywhere near her. It was the work of a fast second to shoot the thing in the head, getting sprayed with purple blood before she ran onward. Despite her personal victory, it was quickly becoming obvious that the UNSC was going to lose the battle. “Vincent, find me an evacuation route to the forest. We need to- _shit!_ ” She ducked, feeling the intense heat of the glowing blue sword pass over her head as the largest alien she'd seen roared in absolute fury. It was so close, she could _hear_  its shields crackling and realized she didn't have the time or bullets needed to take them down. So, though it galled her to do so, the second the sword was clear she was back on her feet and running.

“ _Left,_ ” Vincent suddenly warned, barely giving her enough warning to duck down the alley. “ _Enemy unit forty yards ahead; suggest finding shelter._ ” Before the redhead could answer, she tripped and had to roll to a stop. Curses were on her lips, but whatever she'd stumbled over had made a pained sound, so she quickly got back on her knees and shuffled over. The light in the narrow path between buildings was absolute crap, providing barely enough illumination to identify the body as human, so Kaine reluctantly pulled out and activated one of her emergency glow sticks and activated it, holding it close to the person's face.

She'd never, in her life, regretted anything more as the stick fell from nerveless fingers.

“Bright,” the injured ODST wheezed, blue eyes squinting against the sudden light green light that turned the blood on her face black. “Cadet?”

“I'm here, Captain McCoy,” the redhead said quietly, barely able to see rank and name on the mud-splattered chest plate. “I'm...I'm going to get you to safety.”

“No,” the soldier huffed, pain clinging to every sound she made. “Too late. Get...the others. Get them out.” Kaine glanced to the side where she'd already noticed three other bodies. In the weak glow of her emergency light, she could see the CAMS uniform...and that they weren't breathing. “Save them.”

“I will,” she promised, lying through her teeth. She had to; she wasn't cruel enough to tell they dying soldier the truth. “Just...let me help ease your pain.” Without waiting for permission, she removed the damaged helmet and laid it aside, gently carding her fingers through sweat-soaked blonde hair. The soldier made a quiet sound of pleasure, closing her eyes and relaxing as the redhead carefully worked out the knots. Her entire body was shaking slightly, but she forced herself to hold her hand steady as she very quietly started humming a song from her barely remembered childhood. For a long moment, the pair drifted in a quiet bubble, uncaring of the battle that continued to rage around them.

“Cadet?” McCoy finally croaked, cracking an eye open. “Would you...return my tags...to my daughter?” Kaine made a soft sound of agreement, carefully reaching out and unclipping the chain to remove the two identification tags. By the time they were free, the ODST was dead, forcing the cadet to get back to her feet and running, leaving the bodies in the dark.

Re-entering combat was a shock to the redhead's system, but one that she welcomed. Anything was better than the numbness that had invaded her chest with the ODST's death. However, her brief eternity in the alley hadn't resulted in a positive change in the battle; if anything, it was more hopeless than it had been before McCoy's death. “This isn't working,” she finally growled, peering out from behind the cargo crate she'd taken shelter behind, her rifle abandoned nearby because she was out of ammunition. A swarm of the short, stubby aliens was milling about nearby, making those weird barks and grunts that seemed to be their form of communication. They were certainly the most prolific creatures about, but they didn't seem highly motivated. Unless a taller alien came around, she didn't think they'd be leaving. “Vincent, find me a route to an unoccupied rooftop. We'll try sniping for a while.”

“ _One person cannot change the tide of this battle,_ ” he warned her, even as she could feel him obeying. “ _Our time would be better spent evacuating into the woods. The Academy is done for._ ”

“I might not be able to save the school, but I can damn well cover the other evacuees,” she snarled back, thinking back to the bodies in the alley as she held the position until he started giving directions to the chosen roof, snagging an abandoned sniper rifle as she dodged between shelters. “Can you keep watch for emergency beacons or calls? If anyone is trapped in the area, that will be the fastest way to find them.”

“ _I'll do what I can,_ ” he said, doubt clearly clinging to his tone. “ _Without being in contact with a direct line to the communication array, I might miss something._ ”

“Just do your best,” she whispered, edging past a small group of bird-headed aliens. It was a miracle that none had noticed her, and she needed that good luck just a bit longer. Dammit all, where was John when she needed him?! Actually, that was a good question. With this invasion, would any of them be coming? “Vincent.”

“ _Already on the watch,_ ” he assured. “ _If any of them land, I'll let you know._ ” She wasn't able to answer verbally, but she sent him her gratitude. Followed quickly by grumbles as he corrected her route. “ _No sign of enemy aircraft, but keep your ears open._ ”

“Understood,” she hissed, swinging up onto the stretch of roof at last. She spent a second to curse her restricted ammunition before scouting for a secure vantage point. There was one over-looking the courtyard that she was hesitant to use because of lack of cover, but that was where the majority of the aliens were, still. Vincent had alerted her that some aliens were moving into the buildings, flushing out survivors, but they were too scattered for her to hunt down. “War is a series of calculated risks,” she finally muttered, assuming the prone position and picking out her first target. “Take the possibility over the guaranteed.”

“ _Pretty sure this is_ not  _what your Grandfather had in mind when he taught you that._ ” Shut up, Vincent.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Hold.

Squeeze.

_Roar!_

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Hold.

Squeeze.

_Screech!_

Inhale.

Hold.

Squeeze.

“ _Distress beacon identified,_ ” Vincent broke in, nearly covered by the scream of rage from the tall lizard alien she'd just shot. “ _It's Lasky. He's in the armory with other survivors, but the beacon system is down. I can redirect it to the nearest UNSC forces, but I'm not sure how much help they'll be._ ”

“Do it,” Kaine grunted, taking out another bird-head before quickly moving to her feet and sprinting down the roof, needing a new location. “We'll get to them as soon as we have a spare moment.”

“ _Understood._ ” Blessed silence for several seconds as the redhead vaulted over an AC unit, and then, “ _Uh-oh._ ”

“Do I want to know?”

“ _Distress beacon was picked up by an elite group designated as a Spartan team. They are moving to respond._ ” She nearly tripped over her own feet at that, shock making her body freeze for a bare second. Spartans. As if the day couldn't get any damn worse. “ _Identities of the Spartans is unknown. I'm sorry._ ”

“Just keep an eye on them,” she snarled, taking out another enemy unit in four shots. “And keep me away from them.” There was a vague impression of not making any promises before she suddenly had to dive off the roof, narrowly avoiding the explosion she'd barely sensed. “Fuck!” she yelped as she landed, badly, and had to roll away from debris. Tracks of fire across her skin told her where she'd been hit by shrapnel, but she was already up and moving before she noted that half her face was warm and sticky. “Gods dammit!” she growled, wiping as much of the blood off her face as she could. “Can this nightmare just end already?!”

Turning sharply to escape down an alley to avoid an alien patrol, the redhead promptly tripped over a lump and landed awkwardly on her arm. Curses were on her lips as she turned to see what had been in her way, but they all died when she recognized the mass. “Jameson!” she hissed, scrambling over and rolling the cadet onto his back...and instantly wished she hadn't. His chest was gone, looking like it had gone through a meat grinder, and his abdomen was-

Kaine lurched away, barely able to get clear before her stomach was violently emptying itself. Part of her mind was screeching that she needed to keep quiet, but it was barely heard over the roaring in her ears. All of her years of training, and she wasn't prepared for...this. What were these creatures?! They attacked peaceful schools, slaughtered teenagers, and then they...ate them.

“ _I'm sorry,_ ” Vincent pressed into her mind, cautiously gentle. “ _The Spartan is approaching Lasky's beacon; we should meet up with them. There's no one else left to buy time for._ ” The redhead couldn't answer, though she did manage to get back to her feet and stumble away from the remains of her friend. She wanted to stay in the numb haze she'd fallen into, but the roar of battle around her forced her mind back into painful awareness. It was truly unfortunate...for everyone. Because with awareness came rage, and she left a bloody trail behind her as she made her way to the armory. When her ammunition ran out, she switched to a combat knife she'd taken off a beheaded ODST, but the switch, in no way, made her less dangerous.

“ _The Spartan is with the survivors, but the COM is closed so I can't hear them,_ ” her AI announced as she ducked into the hall that ended with the armory. Kaine gave a distracted acknowledgment as she hurried on, hearing voices that she recognized as Histati. There was a loud crash just as she reached the door, but she had no time to figure out what was happening before there was a rifle quite suddenly aimed directly at her face.

“Holy shit!” she yelled, taking a step back as she wrestled her combat instincts into submission. Attacking UNSC forces was usually not recommended, though this walking suit of armor was certainly new. Since when was the military using oversized robots?! “What the hell is that?!”

“Kaine!” The redhead glanced past the threatening mass of steel and weapons to see a beaming Lasky, along with Orenski, Sullivan, and Silva. Was this seriously all that was left?

“Lasky,” she acknowledged, “Orenski, what is going on here? And you,” she switched the glare to the robot, “put that down! I'm human, in case you haven't noticed. Save your bullets for the nightmare monsters outside.” It took longer than she was comfortable with, but the thing eventually lowered its rifle and shook its head, almost like it was throwing off an errant thought.

“No time,” the robot said, voice rough and deep. Two simple words, but they opened a pit in Kaine's mind that nearly sucked her into oblivion. Oh sweet gods, no. Of all the damn times to run into him, why now?! His luck might be impeccable but that didn't mean it didn't suck! “Armor up with the others; we have to move.” There wasn't even a second where she considered disobeying, and as soon as she'd realized that she growled under her breath.

“Slit his throat or shoot him in eyes?” she muttered under her breath, keeping her voice pitched low to avoid being heard as she tugged the pitiful excuse for a helmet on. “That is the question.” Not that she was  _going_  to do anything. The hulking mass of armor was their best hope of getting out alive, but she didn't have to be happy about it.

Despite the unexpected emergency, the cadets of Histati armored up quickly and efficiently. The redhead still left them in the metaphorical dust, but at least she didn't have to step in to hurry them up. Even the tall soldier was being unusually patient, though she could tell he kept glancing at her. Suddenly, all the blood on her face was a blessing; he clearly didn't recognize her. If he ever did, she'd know from a throbbing jaw and a huge hole in the wall.

Once everyone was ready, the small group started down the hall. The Walking Wall of Armor took the point, Kaine falling in behind him and the remains of Histati fanning out on the sides. They could all hear as sections of the Academy collapsed due to structural damage, and the faint barks and yells of the aliens would drift in and out. The dust became so thick in sections that Lasky would break into coughing fits; the tall soldier nearly yelled at him for the first one but the redhead had slid between them with a silent rebuke. “Here,” she said softly to the freshman, offering her canteen so he could take a drink. Amazing how no one thought to teach cadets about carrying water at all times, including during a battle. And hopefully, the fact that she had the canteen wouldn't give her away.

Suddenly, the soldier stopped dead, hand lifted in a signal to stop all movement. Kaine had frozen the moment she recognized his signal, but the rest of Histati came to a staggered halt. By the time they realized that something must have happened, the redhead had her weapon up and trained down the hall, focused on the shadows. She hadn't seen any move, but she didn't have fancy armor, so maybe he'd spotted something she'd missed.

“Stay quiet,” the previously silent mass said suddenly, turning to face them and nearly blinding them with his helmet light. “Do not leave, no matter what you hear outside.” Yeah, not happening.

“Wait,” Lasky cut in, voice slightly strained. “Who are you?”

“Call me Master Chief,” was the only answer, and then the suit of armor was moving quickly down the hall, fading into the darkness. It was so sudden, the cadets were left gaping and blissfully unaware of the quiet growl coming from the redhead. Drama queen.

“I knew those ONI vids were bad news,” Sully suddenly moaned as Chyler broke formation and slumped against the wall. “Now we're the only ones alive.” Kaine twitched dangerously and Orenski hurried to silence the freshman, but he was on a roll. “What the hell is going on?! We're all following a giant robot.” Twitch. “Who knows if he's even coming back?”

“He's gotta come back,” Lasky chimed in, staring into the dark hall like he could summon their savior with the power of his thoughts alone. If he did, the redhead was going to make him will a Pelican into existence. “I believe him.” Ah, to be young and trusting again...well, maybe not young.

Seeing Sullivan open his mouth again, Kaine quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him so that her face was nearly in his. “Cadet Sullivan? Shut. Up. Now.” Reaching down, she grabbed the weapon he'd lowered with her free hand and shoved it into his chest, making him stumble against her grip. “Gear up, soldier, or I'll save these alien bastards the trouble and shoot you myself.” Whether it was her tone or her look wasn't important; the freshman nearly snapped to attention and resettled his armor and weapons, including finally putting his helmet on. The redhead waited only as long as needed to make sure that he was obeying before drifting back to the center of the hall. Like Lasky, she knew the Master Chief would come back, and she intended to be ready.

A very loud thud down the hall startled them all into stillness. Heavy footsteps started coming towards them, loud and firm. Orenski had her weapon trained down the hall but was shaking so bad there was virtually no chance that she'd be able to hit anything. By comparison, Kaine stood calmly and waited, weapon held in the low-ready position. She could see the shadows moving and knew it wasn't an alien, but couldn't let anyone  _know_ that she knew. Still, by the time the armor lights flicked on, revealing the Master Chief, she was honestly considering shooting the man in the ass. Seriously, drama much?! “Couldn't turn the lights on before and save us all from heart attacks, could you?” she scowled, finally relaxing, even as she kept her eyes trained towards the shadows. She could feel when the armored soldier glanced down at her, but when he looked away she knew he'd decided to ignore her again.

“ _You're really pushing, you know,_ ” Vincent chimed in, tone carefully balanced between amused, exasperated, fond, and strained. “ _If he recognizes you, there's going to be hell to pay._ ” There was no answer for that, and she didn't try to create one. Besides, Chief was talking and she needed to pay attention.

“Who's the best shot here?” he asked the assembled cadets.

“You, probably,” Sullivan answered, voice colored with uncertainty. Kaine caught Orenski glancing at her, no doubt thinking of her records on the firing range, but she just glared back. Sassing the tall soldier was one thing, but if he saw her shoot, there would be no hiding from him. And though there was certainly a part of her that wanted to just kill the secret right then and there, she liked having an unbroken jaw more.

“Chyler is,” Lasky finally responded, sounding vaguely proud. As well he should; the Lasky brothers had never been the best at shooting, but the redhead had seen the younger passing on some tips to the female cadet on the range. There had been a marked improvement in her skills after that tutor session.

“I am too,” Orenski chimed in, catching the Chief's attention before the giant glanced at the remaining cadet. When she said nothing, he turned back to Lasky.

“Cadet Lasky, can you drive a Warthog?” Kaine  _had_  to snort at that; did he even know what he was asking?! Warthogs were reserved for officers and their aides. Cadets weren't allowed to even touch them their freshman year unless it was an emergency, though this certainly counted. The point was, there was  _no way_  Lasky knew how to drive. Still, it didn't surprise her when he nodded and gave a non-committal answer.  _This_  she had to see. “Good; that's where we're headed,” Master Chief said briskly, turning to gesture down the hall. “Shooters on the left and right, driver in the center. Stay close to me. It's your best chance of survival.” Right. No promises in combat.

They moved down the hall seamlessly, falling into an ease that the redhead honestly hadn't expected. It usually took months, if not years, to find that sort of familiarity. However, when they finally stepped out of the building and into the courtyard, it became painfully clear who had battlefield experience and who didn't. All of Histati outright recoiled, whereas Kaine and the tall soldier stood firm...not that it was easy. The farther they moved into the field of bodies, the tenser they all became, but a gentle tingle of electricity on her side made the redhead glance over in time to see the pain, panic, and rage nearly overtake the cadet beside her. “Lasky,” she called softly, catching his attention, making him look at her. “Focus on the now. We can mourn later.” For a second it looked like he would argue, but then the fight nearly drained out of him and he nodded wearily. So they kept trudging through, picking between the bodies of teachers and friends, trying to not look at any faces. The hardest, for Kaine, were the ODSTs. They'd jumped feet first into hell for the people of the Academy and she had to leave them behind to be...oh please, merciful gods, don't let them be eaten.

At long last, the group reached the final stretch before the Warthog. The redhead had to fight every instinct she had that was screaming for her to run to the transport in an effort to get away from the steadily growing surge of electricity under her skin. It was so painfully obvious that they were walking into an ambush, but she had no way to communicate that without giving herself away. Instead, she was stewing in her own anger and fear, twitching like a cat walking past a dog park. Then Sullivan just had to open his big mouth, asking, “Where did they all go?” and she could have screamed. In fact, she might have, if it wasn't for the fact that she was in the perfect position to see the glowing purple spike gouge a chunk out of the back of his leg less than a second later. It was so sudden, she couldn't figure out how to react for a heartbeat of time. By the time she'd realized that she should take cover, Chief had blocked a second shot at Sullivan and threw him behind the courtyard wall, shouting for the others to follow suit. Grabbing Silva, Kaine obeyed as quickly as she could, growling some choice cuss words as she tried to fall into her battle mind-space. Unlike the other cadets, it was a skill she'd mastered years before, and it wasn't long before she was returning fire.

“Cover me!” Orenski yelled, trying to move into a better position to cover Lasky's run to the Warthog.

“Working on it!” the redhead called back irritably, cursing slightly louder when an alien managed to dodge her shot. Dammit, stop dancing around!

As was prone to happen on any battlefield, time condensed down to contained eternities as Kaine moved smoothly between aiming, firing, and taking cover. She could vaguely hear the rest of Histati yelling updates and she actually  _laughed_  when Silva got her hands on an alien weapon and hit one of their tormentors.

Then, quite suddenly, the alien snipers were falling like rows of dominos. Even knowing what she would see, the redhead looked up at the ramparts to find the Master Chief running along them, firing with his Magnum. She mentally upgraded her opinion of the suit's targeting ability, even as she leapt back to her feet and started running towards their only hope of survival. Orenski and Silva had reached the running 'Hog before she did, being much closer than she had been along the path, so she swung into the back, barely able to catch herself before she landed on Sullivan. He was lying prone inside the space that was never meant for anything more than supplies or weapons, making it exceedingly awkward to crouch over him, but somehow she succeeded in doing just that, though her balance was sorely tested when the giant pile of armor jumped onto the back of the Hog. She wasn't sure if there had been a signal or if Lasky just had fast reflexes, but it wasn't even a full second later before they were taking off like a bat out of hell.

A handful of seconds later, they were lost amongst the trees. Kaine could feel how Lasky was struggling with the vehicle, but since he kept them generally on the road, she kept her mouth sealed. Instead, she focused on keeping the injured Sullivan mostly still without causing him more harm. It reminded her of the time that her sister had to be evacuated out of the forest by Falcon...and she really couldn't afford to think of those times.

“Bear right, Cadet,” the Chief suddenly ordered, making the redhead twitch. She'd almost forgotten about him. “There's an exit directly ahead. Faster, Cadet. Four minutes to the Pelican. We have to get off the planet.” Right, because the UNSC was really going to leave someone like the Master Chief behind on a planet that was clearly lost. Orders or no, the Pelican would be there, no matter how long it took.

Assuming they got there, of course, which was looking less and less likely as the damn electricity surged for the billionth time that night. “Something's following us,” she hissed, pulling her weapon into her lap, even as she realized that there was little she could do. Shoved into the back as she was left her absolutely no clean lines-of-sight to shoot along and ammo wasn't so plentiful that she could 'spray-and-pray', as her father was fond of saying. However, an ambush meant defensive driving, which meant Sullivan was going to be thrown about like an old ragdoll. So instead of moving into a combat position as she desperately wanted to, she curled tighter over the injured cadet and braced herself around him.

No more than a handful of seconds later, the Warthog swerved violently and Kaine's ears popped painfully. Grenade, but not frag or sonic. She'd seen the aliens use a few...plasma? That would explain the change in energy in the air. Beyond that, she wasn't sure what was happening. There was a lot of yelling, screams, machine gun fire from the back of the 'Hog, and the Chief yelling orders in an attempt to give the panicking cadets a sense of order.

Just as quickly as it had started, the chaos ended and Kaine decided to risk a sigh of relief. The sound nearly caught in her throat as the 'Hog suddenly jarred violently, throwing her against the seats and causing more damage to her already injured arm. She could feel bones scrape together and distantly wondered if something had broken, but the thought was quickly shoved aside so she could focus on damage control. “Everyone okay?” she barked before Chief was quite suddenly in her face, making her realize for the first time that they'd come to a complete stop. Knowing what he wanted before he could ask, she quickly shifted aside and gave him access to Cadet Sullivan, who he pulled out quickly, leaving her to follow. Orenski was on the back of the 'Hog, manning the gun, while Lasky tried to restart the vehicle and Silva...just sat there, apparently. It seemed they had everything covered, so the redhead moved to stand guard, putting all of her focus into the forest. She could hear the aliens moving around, but they weren't approaching. In fact, it almost sounded like they were...falling back?

“Tom?” Silva suddenly said, voice quiet and colored with shock. It was  _just_  out of place enough to catch the redhead's attention, but as she turned back to the Warthog, she couldn't see what was wrong. “Tom?!” Now pain was creeping in, cold and deadly. A horrifying thought started working its way into Kaine's mind, and she knew she was right when the wind shifted and brought her the scent of fresh blood.

“Chief!” Lasky yelled, panic clinging to his tone tightly as the female cadet finally gave into the pain and screamed. The Chief was on them like a shot, leaving the redhead to fall back and stand guard over Sullivan, noting the large amount of biofoam that was packed into his wound. It would allow him to walk, but not much else. However, it had also clearly used their entire supply of the medical aid, which meant Silva would have to suffer. Depending on how bad the wound was, such a restriction could be fatal.

Just in case not enough was going wrong, when Kaine glanced over her shoulder she noticed that the woods behind them were being lit up by an unknown source of sickly green light. She'd seen enough ancient entertainment to know that the color meant something dangerous, and possibly evil, was heading their way. “Sir!” she yelled in warning, catching the armor's attention as the sounds of the enemy's retreat got more pronounced.

“They're retreating!” Orenski announced, sounding so confused that the redhead couldn't find it in her to be upset. “Why would they do that now?!” A good question, and it probably had to do with the angry roars coming from the sick light.

“We're being hunted,” Chief answered, moving quickly to intercept the new threat. “Keep moving north; you'll see my team.” Oh joy, more Spartans. Just what she needed. “Run as fast as you can and don't stop for anything. Including me.” No happening, but there was no time to tell him that, especially as he was already running off. So, settling for cursing under her breath yet again, Kaine helped Sullivan to his feet while Lasky and Orenski took Silva and they all headed into the woods.

“We've got to get her somewhere,” Orenski stated, unnecessarily but she was apparently the kind of person that needed to talk through their thoughts in a crisis. Not the best trait for a UNSC soldier or officer, but this was hardly the time to be picky.

“The blind,” Sully chimed in, voice heavy with pain as he leaned heavily on the redhead. It was a sound idea; if there were medical supplies anywhere in the woods, they would be at the blind.

Orenski apparently agreed as she started saying, “Let's go by-” but she was interrupted by an earth-shaking roar. It startled all of them into spinning around to see a certified monster towering over the Master Chief.

“Guys, go!” Lasky yelled, pulling Silva deeper into the woods and forcing his squad leader to follow. Kaine was hard on his heels, nearly swinging Sullivan into her arms and carrying him to go faster. Every weapon report behind her made her twitch with the desire to go back and help, but the tall soldier didn't need her. Sullivan and the cadets did. So she stuck with them, calling out warnings about forest debris whenever she spotted them. “Sully, you with us?” the brunette cadet called back after a particularly rough patch.

“Yeah,” the injured cadet groaned as he was helped over a log. He gave a very sarcastic smile when the redhead gave him a look of disbelief, but she didn't call him on the semi-lie. It was only a minute later that they stumbled into the blind and Kaine was able to let the injured boy sit and rest his leg. She could hear Lasky and Orenski scrambling to find anything that might help Silva, but she could also hear the rattle in the female cadet's chest as she tried to pull in a breath. It was a sound she knew far too well, having been exposed since a very young age; most soldiers called it the Death Rattle. Even if they had been at the Pelican, it was doubtful that they'd be able to save her.

Everything quite suddenly became too much, and Kaine had to turn away, moving to the edge of the blind clearing so that she could stand guard. All of her focus was on the forest, deliberately filtering out anything that came from the other humans. Unbidden and unwanted, Jameson's face flashed into her mind, followed quickly by Captain McCoy, and she had to choke down a sob. Gods dammit, how much more death would they have to suffer on this cursed planet? No amount of training could prepare anyone for this and she was so sick of not being good enough.

“ _Chyler!_ ” The pain in Lasky's voice told her everything she needed to know.

The Master Chief reappeared a few minutes later, with new dents and scorches on his armor. He paused as he passed the redhead, obviously observing her through his helmet, and she met his hidden gaze defiantly, not caring if he realized who she was. She hadn't even realized she was crying until he reached out and wiped a tear trail off her face. It was unexpected, but she held onto enough sense to nod to him and he finally passed by to enter the blind. She refused to watch, but she could hear as he knelt down, probably to check if Silva was actually dead. Then, “I'm sorry,” he said, and she had to glance over. There was far too much understanding and sympathy in his voice. What did he know about losing a loved one? But by the time her gaze was on him, he was back on his feet and all business. “I need your ammo, cadets. It took everything I had to bring that thing down.”

“We don't have any,” Sullivan told him, voice wrecked with grief.

“Just stun rounds, sir,” Orenski elaborated, apparently unaware of her own tears. Silently, Lasky reached into his pouch and pulled out a grenade that he had grabbed on a whim back at the armory. He handed it to the Chief, not looking away from Silva's body, and Kaine's heart broke just a little more.

“Thanks,” Chief told him quietly but received no reply. He did stiffen, though, when a muffled roar came from the forest behind them. “There's another one. Move! Now!” He vanished quickly into the trees, Orenski and Sullivan following as closely as they could, but the redhead hadn't taken more than a couple steps before she stopped and looked back at Lasky. She waited, patiently, for him to give any sign of movement, but he was almost perfectly still. For a second, it brought to mind a story the man that had raised her had told her so many years ago. 'Sometimes, when you give your heart away to someone, you will die twice. The second time is when your heart stops. The first is when their's does.'

“You have to leave her, Thomas,” she finally said, voice soft and gentle, nearly overwhelmed by the roar of the creature that was much closer. “I'm sorry.” For a moment, she thought she would be ignored, but then the young cadet slowly got to his feet. He stumbled a bit as he tried to walk, pausing to look at his reflection in the reflective side of the blind. His gaze was intense, but she couldn't figure out what he was looking for. Whatever it was, she'd never know if he found it, because when he turned to look at her, his expression had not changed. However, he didn't fight when she gently grabbed his arm and lead him away from the blind. From Silva.

Hopefully, she was leading him towards life.

The two caught up with the group quickly, with Master Chief in the lead and Orenski supporting Sullivan. Kaine took the injured cadet's weight without asking permission, half-carrying him so that they could pick up the pace a touch. The sounds of the creature were getting steadily closer, to the point of the ground shaking with every step it took. A shot of pure green plasma was fired in their direction, missing them but far too close for comfort. They were all so caught up in running that it was a huge shock to have to come to a sudden stop as the ground abruptly vanished. Before a new plan could be made, though, the entire area was lit up by the sickly green flow of the monster and their only option was to jump. Lasky, Orenski, and Sullivan landed bad and hard, though they caused themselves no serious injuries, while Kaine and the Master Chief acted like they'd done little more than step off a slightly elevated ledge. “There!” Chief called, pointing to a hollow under the ravine large enough for them all to hide in. The cadets scrambled to obey, squishing close to each other as the alien monster got closer and closer.

The Master Chief was the last into the hollow, using his large, armored bulk to shield the young soldiers to the best of his ability. “Kelly!” he barked, obviously back on his COM. “Negative; need more time. Cannot make it to the rendezvous.”

“Master of the understatement,” the redhead muttered, pushing herself farther into the dirt as the fear finally started to get to her. Training and experience be damned; she was a teenager being hunted through the woods by an alien behemoth that was so dangerous that the biggest and strongest of their group had struggled to take it down. She was allowed to be scared, dammit!

“You have to hold the Pelican,” the tallest soldier continued into his COM. “I  _won't_  leave them! Chief out.” Then he turned towards his charges, firm and resolute in a way that made the redhead sick to her stomach. That was never a good sign. “I'll engage,” he said, ignoring her instant glare. “Get to the Pelican as fast as you can.”

No. No, no, no, no. Not again. “This isn't a game of ' The reengageLast Person to the Pelican Gets Left Behind'!” she snapped, startling the taller male and getting his focus on her. She blithely disregarded Vincent's warnings, fully prepared to fight the man on this subject, when Lasky suddenly leaned between them, looking up at the armor.

“No, sir!” he said firmly, startling them all. “I'll be the decoy.”

“Lasky, no!” Orenski said sharply, but she might as well have not said anything for all the good it did.

“You sweep him from behind,” the male cadet continued, voice firm in a way that Kaine knew meant there would be no arguing with him. For a second, just a second, he reminded her so perfectly of his brother that her chest hurt. If only Cadmon could see him now. Then, after tucking something into his armor, the cadet burst from the cover with a cry of, “ _Axios!_ ”

As far as last words go, not the worst he could do.

Mere seconds after Lasky had started his suicide run, the alien jumped off the ledge and landed before the hollow,  _hard_. Part of their hiding place collapsed, leaving Kaine to try and hold the ceiling up off of the other cadets while the Chief leapt forward, grenade at the ready. However, before he could get in position, the alien swung backwards and neatly batted him away, throwing the mass of UNSC armor into a tree. The crash was so loud, the redhead's ears nearly popped. It would be a certified miracle if she got off the planet without going deaf. Hell, it would be a miracle if she got off the planet at all.

Another roar from the creature disturbed the soil of the hollow again, bringing more down around the heads of the cadets, and Kaine couldn't spare the focus to watch for the tall soldier re-engage. However, from the surprised and awed gasps of Sullivan and Orenski, he was doing just that and probably something impossible again. It wasn't until she heard the muffled explosion of the grenade, though, that she dared to speak. “Go!” she yelled, barely able to keep everything clear of their heads as the other cadets hurried out, leaving her to dodge free by diving forward moments before the entire ledge collapsed and buried their hiding place.

Any logical person would have caught their breath at that point, but...well, Kaine had never claimed to be logical. The second she got her feet back under her, she was up and running in the same direction that Lasky had taken. It only took a couple seconds to spot a lump that was his proper size, and she hurried over. For a terrifying second, she thought he wasn't breathing, but when she rolled him over, he gasped and started coughing as his lungs tried to clear. Bleary eyes cracked open, finding her quickly, and she didn't realize that she was crying until the tears were falling onto his chest. “Idiot,” she said fondly, noticing his small smile before quickly shifting and pulling him carefully to his feet as Orenski and Sullivan hurried over, calling for their friend. The heroic cadet was barely steady before the Master Chief joined them, quickly barking at them to hurry to the clearing that was within fifty yards. So, with the sun finally breaking the horizon and filling the woods with a warm and golden light, the small group hurried the final distance and broke free of the trees as the Pelican touched down. Marines came pouring out, forming a perimeter, and a second large suit of armor jumped free, hurrying over to the survivors, allowing the cadets to pass as the Chief came to a stop beside them.

“We have four survivors,” the larger soldier said, voice vaguely relieved and tired.

“I've alerted command,” the new armored soldier replied, voice female and cultured. The sound made Kaine twitch, but she was pulling Lasky onboard at that moment and wasn't able to indulge in the meltdown that she wanted to have. That could wait until they reached the ship and she could find a deserted corner.

“Let's go,” Chief ordered, signaling for the Marines to re-board the Pelican so it could take off. The two heavily armored soldiers were the last to enter, and the transport was lifting off of the ground before they'd settled. A third suit was waiting for them and they sat beside it quickly; the Master Chief at the end and keeping watch out of the hatch while the smaller armored soldier sat between them. Across the aisle, Lasky was in the seat closest to the hatch with Orenski and Sullivan farther in and the Marines clustered near the cockpit. Kaine was still standing, resting between Lasky and the open air with her weapon ready. However, unlike the Master Chief, she appeared relaxed, holding on to the nearby seat with her free hand to stay steady.

Cresting a hill, everyone could see the burning remains of the Corbulo Academy of Military Science. A sober silence fell upon everyone gathered as they realized just how severe of a blow the entire UNSC had taken. Several generations of soldiers, wiped out in the span of a few hours. But there was also a strange sensation of hope curling in all of their chests. Because they had walked through Hell itself and survived. So maybe, just maybe, they could keep doing so.

But the surprises weren't done. The smallest armored soldier casually removed her helmet, revealing a young girl, appearing to be in her late teens or early twenties. Her skin was very pale and freckled, her eyes a dark green, and her hair dark and short. Next to her, the other strange soldier also removed the helmet, showing that the sex was male, about the same age as the girl. Skin slightly darker while still being pale, eyes a pale blue, hair just as short as hers but with a strange nick on his forehead, like a scar that the hair would not grow over. They both had various scars across their faces of varying severity and some faded with age. Silently, they both turned towards the Master Chief, asking a question, but when he didn't turn away from his vigil at the hatch they had their answer. Still, it told the cadets quite a bit. He had to be just like them.

“How old are all of you?" Sully asked at last, unable to keep quiet. The two unmasked glanced at each other, silently debating how to answer. The female, who had to be Kelly, finally answered that the information was classified. No one noticed the redhead's tired smirk at the response. However, it was the redhead that noticed when Orenski tiredly removed her helmet and Kelly nodded towards her. For all their lack of basic social behavior knowledge, the teens knew what it was like to be in hopeless battles. Even as they acted coldly towards the cadets, they actually respected them for surviving without falling to pieces. That's what Kelly was silently trying to say.

As they made their ascent into the upper atmosphere, Chief finally turned towards the brunette who had been watching him for a long time. He reached out; handing the cadet what appeared to be a piece of rock but was actually a piece of the worm monster's armor. "Well done, soldier," he said, surprising Lasky before returning to his vigil. Kaine observed the teenager a moment more and watched him clutch the armor shard tightly before she smiled tiredly and lay her head against the hull. Maybe things would go better now.

She must have dozed off standing up, because the next thing she was aware of was the Pelican landing in the hangar of a large ship. The armored soldiers were already standing, preparing to disembark as one of the Marines gently woke the still sleeping cadets. Carefully stretching the kinks out of her back, the redhead nearly jumped out of her skin when something brushed against her head. “Sorry,” the large male soldier without his helmet said, a kind smile on his face. “Didn't mean to startle you. That's a pretty nasty head wound; you should get it checked out.”

“It was part of my plan,” she said back, trying to smile back and not sure of how well she'd succeeded. “Thanks for worrying, but I'm sure you have things to do. I can find my way to the med bay from here.” He didn't seem fully convinced, and the longer he stared at her, the more an abstract terror built in her chest. Not now, please not now. This was  _not_  the time to be recognized!

But then the man was shaking his head and stepping away, rejoining the other armored soldiers as the Pelican finally touched down in the hangar. The hatch slid open with a hiss, revealing a bustling room and increasing the ambient noise by several decibels. And right there, clearly tense but projecting a calm, was the only man the redhead honestly wanted to see just then. Just the sight of him was enough to nearly eliminate her pain and fatigue, and she nearly bolted down the ramp before it had finished setting down. “Eric!” she called joyfully, not giving a single damn about decorum as she grabbed him in a fierce hug that was eagerly returned. Finally,  _finally_ , the reality of her safety settled in and she nearly collapsed in relieved sobs. If it wasn't for her father, she would have become an undignified lump on the ground.

“I'm here, Kaine,” the older man was saying quietly, rubbing her back gently as she cried. “You're safe now. I'm here.” Distantly, the redhead knew that the soldiers were respectfully giving them room, and that they were probably being a major roadblock, but she couldn't bring herself to care. In that moment, she was just a little girl that had desperately wanted her father.

But reality waited for no one, and eventually, she had to pull away, wiping the tears off of her face. “You didn't need to come, sir,” she said formally, but she couldn't stop from smiling when he gave her an amused look. “I would have caught up with you eventually.”

“Picking up your kid from school is a time-honored tradition for all parents,” he told her as he gently started leading her out of the room. “As soon as we got word of the attack, I jumped on the first inbound ship and I've been pacing a hole in the floor since we arrived. Would have dropped in, but the General explicitly forbid me from entering the engagement. Now come on; we should get those wounds treated.” Despite his words, it quickly became obvious that he was leading her towards the personal quarters and not the medical bay. The realization only made Kaine smile and she gratefully leaned on him the rest of the way.

However, the moment they were safely ensconced in the privacy of his quarters, she pulled away and stood tall, giving a sigh of relief as she could drop the act. “Gods, I hate playing vulnerable,” she groaned, rolling her shoulders a couple time. “Please,  _please_ tell me that you have a private shower.”

“Through that door, sir,” Eric said with a chuckle, already pulling out a spare uniform in her size. “I'll have everything ready by the time you're done.” She gave him a grateful grunt, but before she could walk away, he gently grabbed her arm to get his attention. Contrary to his previous words and actions, his expression was terrifyingly serious. “Do you need anything? I know it couldn't be easy...seeing  _them_  again.”

“Who, the Spartans?” she asked tiredly, unable to keep the lopsided smile off of her face. “No, it wasn't easy. But it wasn't bad, either. Well, not unbearable, at least. Sort of...nice. In a way.” Then she chuckled, dark and humorless. “Always nice to see my siblings again; I'd almost forgotten that I was a Spartan myself.”

 


	2. This is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: This is War  
> Artist: 30 Seconds to Mars

Personal Journal Program: Active  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date: 25260429  
Time: 0920  
Aboard shuttle to Reach

  
Okay, when I said the worst had yet to come, I'd like to clarify, THIS IS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND! Giant alien freaks descending on the Academy and wiping nearly everyone out was the very last thing on my mind. I mean, honestly, I figured the worst it would get is an EOD exam with live ordinance. This...this...

  
And then, the cherry on top of this Horrible Day sundae was running into Fred. I mean, it was bad enough to be RIGHT NEXT TO John, but it was tolerable the way getting shot in the foot is. Painful, yes, but not lethal. It helped that he was so deep in denial he wouldn't have figured out who I was if I'd yanked off that helmet and kissed him, which I was tempted, I will admit. But Fred is another story entirely. John knows me, but Fred knows me. I thought there he would surely recognize me, but he just smiled and walked off like he'd never seen my face before. It hurt...

  
...Vincent says I'm ignoring the real issue. I'd make some comment about how he's being a paranoid old man again, but this journal is literally filled with examples of Vincent warning me that I'm in denial, me arguing, and him getting proved right. So instead, I shall say, yes! I am ignoring it, thank you very much, you bloody computer algorithm. I just watched nearly an entire military school get wiped out and had a mental meltdown when confronted with three siblings. And, to top it off, my mother died in my arms! Therefore, I have the right to be in denial for a little bit longer, you computing, emotionless bastard!

  
...we really need to get this journal writing subprogram fixed so it stops writing every damn thing I think.

  
Most of my issues at the moment stem from the fact that I am trapped on a shuttle with nothing to do but stare out the window and twiddle my thumbs. We're due to arrive at Reach in the next few minutes and everyone else is being woken from cryo, but I've spent the entire trip awake because of my allergy. Sure, I've had a lot of natural sleep, but being confined on a shuttle and not being able to expend energy means that I don't require a lot of sleep, which leads to me being awake for days on end. Thinking about what happened on Corbulo, about how much has changed now, will have me literally climbing the walls. So yes, I'm ignoring it. I have to.

  
Vincent's using some of my energy to try and recover past journal entries that were corrupted during the invasion, as well as indulging in his hacking addiction by trying to collect personal journals from other people. Hacking is how he de-stresses, and I know I can't stop it completely, so I've given him my okay, but I never want to know what he's finding. A journal is private. He can collect, but I won't read and he can't tell me what he learns. Period...though I have no doubt that will come back to bite me in the ass.

  
Except for the fact that I can't. Every hour, the ship receives an update about what the aliens, apparently called Covenant, are doing. I'd heard rumors that the UNSC had lost contact with Harvest a few weeks ago, but I'd never thought...well, that goes without saying, doesn't it? I'd never thought anything like this could happen, so of course, I'd never thought losing Harvest was possible.

  
Suddenly, I'm not sure about my choices anymore. These Covenant; they're big and they're strong. I'd watched them tear full grown soldiers apart with their bare hands. I know I put on a brave face for Histati and the Spartans, but I was honestly scared. In all my time with the Spartans, we'd never been trained to fight anything other than human. If John, the luckiest of all of us, could barely hold his own against this enemy, what hope did everyone else have? So sitting here, going back to Reach and Eric, I wonder if I've made the right choice to stay in the UNSC. I wonder if I can fight in a war I haven't been trained for.

  
But there's one thing that keeps my butt in the seat. We hadn't been trained to fight aliens, but we had been trained to adapt, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. If the battle at Corbulo proved nothing else, it proved that these creatures can be taken down. Humans shine their brightest when they're put under pressure, and I've no doubt we'll do it again. So right now, despite all my doubts, the best place I can be is with Eric as an ODST. Because, if for no one else but Chyler, I will be there when humanity gets back up and shows these Covenant assholes just who they decided to mess with.

  
We've dropped out of Slipspace now, and Reach is looming before me, as big and intimidating as it has ever been. It looks the same as when I'd left for the Academy, but it feels different. Newer. There are more ships circling the planet, and I can see several new Tethers already being constructed. If the aliens want this world, they better be ready to die for it. Because this is what I've been trained for. This is war.

 


	3. 10,000 Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: 10,000 Miles  
> Movie: Fly Away Home

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery: 25260430  
Date of original entry: 25250325

  
Eric got me this journal so that I could vent my thoughts and feelings without worrying about information leaks. It's a bio journal, meaning only someone with my DNA can open it, guaranteeing that everything is safe. It was so sweet, I didn't have the heart to tell him that writing physically hurts. Then again, everything hurts, so what's a little more pain? Considering how much crap I have in my head, it might be a good idea to put some of it to paper.

  
So, where to start? Well, I'm Klare...oh, right. I'm not anymore. My name is Kaine, now. Kaine Faldon. Right, need to remember that. Okay, starting again.

  
I'm Kaine and I'm the adopted daughter of Eric Faldon, an ODST Commander. We live on Reach, out in the middle of nowhere. I have several brother and sisters...or I did, at least. I'm not sure how many I have left. Gah, dammit! Why did Eric give me a pen instead of a pencil; I can't erase pen! ...okay, okay, that's probably why he did it. Guess I need to stop censoring myself. One more time, from the top.

  
I'm Klare McCoy, but I've gone by Spartan 113 for the last several years of my life. I was one of seventy-five children that were part of the Spartan program; a program that was designed to turn us into the best weapons any human could ever be. About a month ago, we underwent the last round of augmentations. A little less than half of us died, and I was nearly one of them. It was only because of my AI that I lived at all, but because of reasons I don't fully understand, the doctors had tried to kill me on purpose, so now I'm hiding. Eric is an old friend that is trying to protect me, but neither of us are sure what's going to happen next.

  
...well, this journal is supposed to be where I put down my thoughts, so...

  
I know I should be angry at the doctors that tried to kill me, but I'm not. They were just following orders, and I've spent too long being raised as a soldier to begrudge them that. I should also be angry at the person who gave them the order, but I'm still not. There really isn't room left for me to feel anything but pain and sadness. The pain isn't even entirely physical, though that is a large chunk of it. My heart actually hurts, and it's all because I'm not with my brothers and sisters. For eight years, they've been the only constant in my life. I was never that far away from them, even when I wished I was. We had a saying that we would travel as far as we had to, just to stay with each other. 'Anything,' we'd said. 'Even ten-thousand miles.'  
Yet here I am. Alone.

  
I can't blame my siblings. They think I'm dead, so it's really my own damn fault they aren't trying to find me. An argument could be made for blaming the person who ordered my death, and I probably will, once I don't feel so numb. Still, every time I move and feel my muscles seize up because of all the chemical enhancements they've had to endure, I can't help but wish at least one brother or sister was nearby. I hate the saying 'Misery loves company', but it's kinda true. If there was just one other person that I could talk to that knew what I was going through, it would help immensely. Eric has done as much as he can, but he doesn't know what it's like to have your bones randomly break and knit back together. He's never had his eyes bleed for no reason.

  
Vincent, my AI, says that I'm undergoing a variety of unique mental aberrations. The betrayal by the people who had raised me. The immense physical alterations that I was subjected too. The loss of my siblings. All of this has combined to throw me into shock, but I can't even have a normal shock now, because of my damn augmentations. There's no telling how long it will last, any side effects I might suffer; we're going in blind, and I know that should stress me out but it doesn't. This is so aggravating, especially because it should be but I don't actually feel it. I know how I should react, but I can't. I feel like I'm ten-thousand miles away, and I can't get back to where I want to be.

  
James. Carris. Fred. Cal. Kelly. Sam. Serin. Naomi. Randal. Will. Linda. Sorin. John. You've always been the closest to my heart; if I can call anyone a friend, it's you guys. But I just want to feel again, so I can honestly tell you...

  
I miss you.


	4. Better Than I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Better Than I  
> Movie: King of Dreams

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery: 25260503  
Date of original entry: 25250402

  
Okay, now the anger is setting in, and I'm not as happy about that as I thought I'd be. Being angry takes a lot of energy that I'm not sure I can spare right now. In the last week, my heart has stopped six times because of stress and lack of energy; I've never been so terrified. Vincent is doing what he can to keep everything working, but the idea of an AI messing with my body is almost as scary as the thought of dying. I'm starting to understand why ONI was so concerned about him.

  
Doubt has come along with the anger, and it's really getting on my nerves. I don't sleep anymore; every second of every day is spent wondering if I could have done something different. Several times I have caught myself in mental debates about whether I should try and contact the others. I don't really want to go back, but the idea of letting someone know I am alive is a very tempting one. I'd also like to know which ones made it through the augmentations; Vincent hasn't been able to find out about everyone. I know John's team made it, as did mine, but everyone else is pretty much up in the air.

  
I've also thought about contacting Chief Mendez. I'd always known he liked me, but I hadn't known how much until John had told me where the rings came from. Now I feel like I owe him the truth, if no one else. The thought that he thinks he lost his pseudo-daughter, as well as his real one, makes me sick to my stomach.

  
I also think about John a lot. We have such sucky timing, getting married just before augmentations. Sometimes I wonder how he reacted to the news of my death, and then I have to think about something else because my chest tightens and I can't breathe. There's a lot of things I regret right now, but leaving him has to be at the top of the list. Right now, I'm basically banking on the hope that I'll be able to tell him the truth someday. The pain should lessen in time, but the question is if I'm going to survive that long. I'd always rolled my eyes when the medical instructor had talked about broken hearts, but it's not so ridiculous anymore. Not when I feel as though it would be less painful to cut my heart out of my chest then leave it in for one more second.

  
All these thoughts plague me, but there's nothing I can do about them. We're not entirely sure who ordered my death, or their reasonings, so I can't risk revealing myself. The UNSC is not known for their mercy; I'd just be executed for real if I tell anyone who I am. Thus the living in the middle of friggin nowhere with Eric. He's an amazing man, and we get along for the most part, but being the only two humans for miles can get a little aggravating. It actually got so bad I left the house and am currently hiding in the woods. I'd go back and apologize, but my legs decided to seize up again and I can't walk. Thus the writing.

  
Strangely enough, sitting out here has reminded me of Instructor Gorse. He was an ODST, and our least favorite instructor, mostly because he hated anyone under the age of thirty and made sure everyone knew it. Anyway, he would go on and on about a supreme being that watched over all of humanity. He never really named it and certainly never called it a god, considering we weren't taught about religion beyond the fact that it existed, but he kept insisting it was out there. If that's true, I wonder what the hell it thought it was doing, letting my siblings and I go through this. This being is supposed to make sure the universe's bigger picture is taken care of, but if our suffering is part of that bigger picture, maybe we need a new supreme being. Someone that won't let seventy-five children go through a fate worse than Hell.

  
...I just don't know anymore. If this had to happen, I'd prefer it to be for a reason, but I resent anything that would need us to give up everything. Haven't we suffered enough? We lost our homes, our families, our childhoods, how much more do we have to give up? It is all such a waste...unless it's for a reason. I don't know what that reason could be; I can't even imagine one right now. Still, the thought that this isn't just mindless or random helps in more ways than I'd thought it would. And if that's the case, maybe that supreme being actually knows what it's doing. Maybe this isn't all in vain; maybe it knows better than I do.

  
Oh, Eric's calling. Got to go.

 


	5. Already Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Already Over  
> Artist: Red

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery:25260509  
Date of original entry: 25250503

  
I had another check-up today. Really, it's a miracle that Eric was able to find a doctor that was willing to keep my secrets. Something about being disgusted with ONI policies, although I'm not too sure about the exact phrasing. I've only met the guy twice after all. Still, he stopped by today to do some more tests, trying to form a baseline that can be used throughout my life.  
I wish he'd had better news. He says my body is still trying to recover from the augmentations, though I could have told him that simply based on how much everything aches. However, he also went into detail about what, exactly, had been done to me. We already knew some things, like the increased muscle mass and the ceramic reinforced skeleton, but other details were a surprise. Unpleasant surprises. Like my DNA no longer being recognized as human by his scanners.

  
I can't get away from you, can I? No matter where I go or what I do, you're there like a damn cancer underneath my skin. When will you be happy?! The only way to protect myself from you and others like you was to run away, but that cost me everything! I have nothing left to lose! You've taken everything I ever had, everything I ever wanted. Because of you, I can't go home. Because of you, I can't be with my siblings. Because of you, I have to live a life of secrecy and lies.

  
Is this what you wanted from us? A group of soldiers that are so completely devoted to you that you can put them through the closest example of Hell they'll ever know while alive, and they still won't turn on you? Did you ever care about us, or only what we could do for you? Cause I can't believe that someone that cared would put us through these augmentations, transforming us in such a way that it's honestly debatable whether we are even human anymore.

  
I can't get them out of my mind. The twenty-nine other coffins. Did you cry for any of them? I know John wasn't among them, Eric assured me of that, but I don't know the others. They died for you and your damn dreams; dreams they didn't even share, dreams that were forced upon them by you. And I'll bet you didn't mourn them. I will bet you anything you want that you just accepted their deaths as unavoidable and moved on.

  
But it was avoidable! It's all your fault! Are you capable of understanding that?! Can you comprehend the fact that it is because of you that they are dead?! That it is because of you that they lost any chance of being normal or living peaceful lives?! That it is because of you that I am in pain every day?! That it is because of you that everyone I love must believe that I am dead because if they don't, I will be killed?!

  
I feel like I'm just a giant volcano of rage; the pressure keeps building up and I know I'm going to explode, but can't even begin to fathom what I will destroy. Preferably you, but that's doubtful. The UNSC tends to frown on murdering ONI scientists. Still, all this anger is stifled inside and I want to scream and lash out but I can't, because of what you did to me!

  
As I sat on the bed, listening to the doctor explain everything my body was put through, I couldn't help but think about what my life would have been like if I hadn't told you how the damn coin would land. I'd still be in school, complaining about the homework and how boring my teachers were. I'd have a small group of close friends that would be wonderfully quirky and sarcastic, making life into one big comedy show. My parents would be lecturing me about grades while Lillian bragged about her straight A's. Maybe I'd have finally convinced my parents to let grandmother take me to Earth for a visit. She always talked about this cabin by the lake that she'd take me to and we'd stay up all night, roasting marshmallows and watching the stars spin by. I'd probably confess to her that suddenly, boys weren't completely disgusting, just mostly so, and then I'd swear her to secrecy because dad would flip if he knew I was even considering being nice to the male species.

  
I wouldn't know what it was like to be shot. I wouldn't know what it's like to go a week with no food and little sleep. I wouldn't know that peculiar noise that occurs when a person's neck is snapped. I wouldn't know what it was like to realize I could die any second. I wouldn't know what it's like to look down at my hands and see them covered in blood. And it's all because of you, Halsey.

  
I hadn't even begun to live, and it's already over.

 


	6. Place in this World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Place in this World  
> Artist: Michael W Smith

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery:25260513  
Date of original entry: 25250425

  
One month. I've been out of the Spartan program for one month and I'm no closer to figuring out what to do with my life. It's not like there's a lot of options available to me. I can't go home; that would be an instant red flag to ONI. Considering my entire existence hinges on the UNSC not knowing I'm alive, going home would be a phenomenally bad idea. Likewise, I can't have anything to do with the Spartans, though I'm nearly itching to at least hack into the system and find out who survived. Eric has volunteered to let me into the ODSTs, but that would cause its own set of red flags. As it is, we're still trying to figure out how he can adopt me without gaining ONI's attention.

  
Cadmon was actually the one to give me an idea. He came for a visit a couple days ago and just about fainted when he saw me. Apparently he'd been one of the ODSTs at the augmentations and had heard I hadn't made it. Took me actually punching him, lightly, to convince him I wasn't a ghost. Then I managed to trip over my own feet and bust a hole in the wall, so that helped too. Which reminds me, I still need to patch that. I swear, this house is turning into one large patch with all the damage I've wrought on it.

  
Anyway, back to Cadmon. During dinner, he was telling Eric about how excited his little brother, Thomas, was about going to Corbulo Academy of Military Science. There was some mild banter about if the young Lasky would become an ODST as well, but I didn't pay much attention to that part. As much as I hate to admit it, going to a military school had never occurred to me. Now, it's all I can think about.

  
Let's face it; I'm not going to be much more than a soldier in this life, thanks to all the training and augmentations. I mean, I can't even walk across the house without managing to break something that shouldn't be breakable. Just yesterday I got angry and kicked the wall of the small hangar, which is seven centimeters of solid steel. There is now a nice dent the size of my foot there, which is another thing I need to patch up. My point, though, is I couldn't live a normal life if my life depended on it. At least in the military everything is built to last and won't break quite as easily.

  
That's not even taking into consideration the fact that I can't think like a civilian at all anymore. I've tried; Eric goes to town every weekend for supplies and gives me all the latest gossip when he comes back. Even when I try to avoid it, I end up categorizing everything he says as 'possible threat', 'possible ally', 'gather intelligence', stuff like that. I can't imagine the place as just a sleepy town on Reach. It's a potential battlefield, and I need to be ready for anything. Thus why Eric doesn't bring me along anymore.

  
A military academy seems to be the perfect answer. Thanks to all the chemicals that I've been pumped full of, I look old enough to enroll, and it would give me the background needed to make ONI look the other way in disinterest. And it's not like the training would hard. In fact, the hardest part about the entire affair might be holding back, so obviously I can't go just yet. Maybe when I finally master picking up a glass container without shattering it. Still, it's an option and I should probably run it past Eric soon.

  
Vincent says I'm ignoring the mental damage that I've suffered from losing the other Spartans. I say that I'm prioritizing, and that whining about things I can't change won't help. He's also mentioned 'talking things out' but I think he's overreacting. This isn't anything compared to what I've been trained for; surely I can handle it on my own. Besides, who am I supposed to tell, Eric? He wouldn't understand and I'd just end up frustrating myself. Better to keep moving forward and leave the past behind me.

  
Although...sometimes, I catch myself staring at the COM unit that Eric has in his office. I start wondering what it would be like to call John, or Fred, and letting them know that I'm okay. It's so clear in my head, I sometimes forget that it's all a fantasy. The few times I've actually reached out to call, Vincent has pulled me back. It's a good thing his mind is clear, even when mine is all jumbled. Still, I can't help but wonder...

  
...I'd better go fix that wall.

 


	7. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Echo  
> Artist: Jason Walker

Personal Journal Program: Active  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date: 25260515  
Time: 1630  
Aboard the UNSC Excalibur

  
I've been an official ODST for two weeks now, and I've already had a man say that I should be at home, taking care of the kids. He'd seen my ring and thought that it would be a good idea to poke fun at the 'married' rookie. Too bad he didn't get the memo about General Faldon being my adopted father. Eric tore that soldier into little tiny pieces and is currently roasting them over the fires of disciplinary actions, but his comment is making me stop and think. I knew, logically, that there weren't a lot of females in the ODST Corps. There's nothing stopping them, but most are either uninterested, fill non-combat roles (which 95% of the Corps is combat), or wash out of training. The few that are left always manage to prove themselves a thousand times over, but each one goes through the same treatment, like we're somehow less than a man because we don't have something hanging between our legs.

  
In all honesty, I really shouldn't have been surprised by the soldier's comment, but I was. This...bias over gender is not something I've ever really tackled before. In the Spartans, we were all equal. The boys knew the girls could wipe the floor with them if they so desired, and they treated us accordingly. I never felt the need to prove myself to someone just because their genitalia was different from mine.

  
Here, though, that is apparently my one and only job. No matter what duty I'm assigned, everyone is watching me, waiting for me to fail. Not because I'm new or young, but because I'm a female. If my control wasn't so tight, I would have gone on a massacre days ago. As it is, I'm barely able to grit my teeth and bare it.

  
This mentality just doesn't make any sense. Most women aren't as physically strong as men, but this bias certainly doesn't help. Maybe that was the reason the Spartans had been raised as equals from the very first day. The training was designed specifically to make everyone prove their worth by what they could do, not by what they were. I'm not sure any Spartan could fulfill a standard gender role anymore. The females are too independent and the men would expect all women to do their fair share of the work/duty/mission.

  
But I think the hardest part about this experience is how much I wanted to tell John about it. The mere idea of what he would have done to the poor soldier makes me want to laugh. Who knows, Eric might actually let him get away with it too. And if Mendez had been here, oh boy. That would be one dead soldier. But my point (I have a point?) is that John never acted like that. The one time he had ever treated me like a girl was when he proposed, and that was to be expected. And...unusually sweet, come to think of it.

  
To be honest, I don't like thinking about that night anymore. Strange, since I don't regret it in any way, but it just...hurts to think about. And before you start, shut up, Vincent. I know, I know, ignoring my problems will not make them go away, but there's not a hell of a lot of other options. I can't even officially break it off with him, which I wouldn't do even if I could, because he thinks I'm dead. Funnily enough, laws only apply to people who are classified as alive.

  
Still, this is the first time I've been able to think about our engagement since our one-year anniversary. Mehaffey had been so mad at me when I disappeared for an entire day and she never did find out how I snuck off the base. Amazing how no one ever thinks to look under a vehicle as it leaves the Academy. Bumpy, but totally worth it for a day of wandering the woods, able to just sit and think at last. My heart still aches when I think of how little time John and I had actually had, and I want to scream at the thought of how long I'd fought him on the subject. But that's all in the past and I have to leave it there. I can't be that person anymore, because if I am I'll be nothing more than an island, cut off from everyone and doomed to slowly disappear.

  
So instead, I'll hold my head high. I'll prove myself to every person that thinks I need to, and I'll do it in such a way to make them regret doubting me. In the meantime, it seems I'll be sufficiently entertained. Tales of Eric's reaction has spread, and there's already three rumors cycling about who my mystery 'husband' could be. Wonder if they'll ever get close.

 


	8. Lest We Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Lest We Forget  
> Artist: The Brothers Bright

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery: 25260518  
Date of original entry: 25250621

  
'Don't blame the Devil for the evils of men.' That's something that Instructor Grant always told us. 'There is nothing worse than a person that cannot take responsibility for their own actions, choosing instead to blame a separate entity.' His words have been echoing in my head today, ever since the UNSC broadcast about the latest strike against the Insurrectionists. The ONI spokesman said, “We do not take the actions we have because we want to. Rather, everything we have done and will do in the future is to protect the future that our children will inherit.”

  
Pretty words, and a pretty sentiment. But do those words actually mean anything? Seventy-five children, stolen from their homes and families, turned into glorified weapons, and used to fight and kill adults. Is that protecting the future of the children? What children? Those not yet born, or maybe all children other than the seventy-five? What then of those seventy-five? How were the actions taken supposed to help or protect them?

  
When I was home, the war was something they mentioned on the news before my parents ushered me out of the room. It was something my grandmother worked long hours trying to stop. It was something that called away many of the young men from our town and they never came back. After being taken, it was my future, plain and simple. The thing is, no matter where I was, I didn't really understand what the war was. Something to avoid or a duty to fulfill, but there was no knowledge, no comprehension about what it meant or the reasons for its existence.

  
Now, stranded in the middle of Reach, I'm still not sure I understand, but I feel like I'm making headway. Though I can't say which side I believe is in the right, I have noticed a pattern between the UNSC and the Insurrectionists. Both sides blame their actions on what the opposing side does. 'We bombed that space station because you attacked our ship.' 'We attacked that ship because you blew up that building.' Back and forth, with no ending.

  
It's so pointless. All this fighting, all this killing, and they can't even take responsibility for their actions. Everything is the other group's fault, so it doesn't matter how horrendous it is. We're blameless because we're only reacting to what you did. Meanwhile, the streets run red with blood, from both soldiers and civilians. Killing begets killing, death begets death, hatred begets hatred, and still they don't stop! They're both so stubborn and prideful and infuriating!

  
Eric told me, today, about some ODSTs that got attacked when they were on shore leave. They weren't attacked by Insurrectionists, but by civilians. Apparently, there had been a protest against the war and, upon seeing the soldiers, the crowd turned on them and attacked, chanting 'Death to the murderers!' Foregoing the comment on the irony, I can't help but feel that this event sums up this entire conflict. Everyone is angry, everyone is hurting, so we lash out at those we can see, even though those people usually aren't the ones in charge. Soldiers do as they are ordered, no matter how much they might despise those orders. Attacking them doesn't effect the war in any way. In fact, I believe it is safe to say that no one civilian wants the war to end more than a soldier does.

  
There is one thing that is different now, though, from when I was a child and when I was a Spartan. I can choose what I do with what I learn. I'm not just a weapon and I'm not just a civilian. I can make a difference, an impact on what is happening around me. It won't be easy, but nothing in my life has been so far, so that's to be expected. Actually, I'd probably die from shock if something turned out easy. Until then, I'll just keep my head low and charge ahead. It's worked so far.

  
And every step of the way, I'll remember what Grant told us. We are responsible for what we do, and no one else is. If we can't take that responsibility, we shouldn't take the action. So while I doubt I'll ever meet Grant again, I'll try to live a life that he would approve of. One where I never feel like I have to blame someone else for what I do. A life where the Devil is not given credit for what is under my power and control. Because when I die, it is not the Devil that shall be judged. When history looks back at the conflict, the UNSC will not be judged for what the Insurrectionists did, nor the other way around. No matter what we say when alive, history will look at us through a single lens.

  
The judgment is on us. Not our neighbors, not our enemies. Us.

 


	9. My December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: My December  
> Artist: Linkin Park

File Recovery Program: Active  
File Recovered: Personal Journal  
Personnel: Kaine Faldon  
Date of recovery: 25260524  
Date of original entry: 25250520

  
ONI decided they needed to meet with Eric, and for some reason, they absolutely had to meet at his house, so after patching everything up super fast, I was sent to the ice poles with Cadmon as a babysitter. Well, okay, not exactly to the poles. Doesn't mean it's not freakishly cold. Cadmon actually built a little nest in his room of blankets and heaters and he refuses to leave except to go to the bathroom.

  
I, on the other hand, am thriving. The cold seems to be helping my body deal with the remnants of the augmentations; my muscles haven't seized up since we came here. It also helps that I don't seem to feel the cold anymore, unless I'm exposed for long periods of time. Probably another alteration they made off the books. I'm starting to think that the scientists were given free range to do any extra experiment they wanted with us.

  
The cabin we're staying in is in the middle of the woods, and it's a lot of fun to go walking around the property, especially at night. Most of the wildlife is gone, except for the occasional wolf or bear. They tend to leave me alone; the one that thought I might taste good got its skull crushed on accident. Anyway, the point is that I like to be in the woods because I feel safe there. It's just me, the trees, and the snow.

  
Unfortunately, it also gives me plenty of time to remember, and that is something I'm trying to avoid. Eric says that every day I refuse to give into temptation, I get stronger. He neglected to say that the temptation grows too. I think even Cadmon is aware that I don't sleep anymore. Every moment is focused on the Spartans, and how much I hate myself for leaving them. It's useless and annoying and apparently unstoppable. When I have work to do inside the house, I'm usually able to at least pretend to focus on something else, but as soon as I have free time, the thoughts rush back in.

  
Where are you now? How many survived? How much have you changed? Do you miss me? Again and again, in endless circles, it's all I can think of. Sometimes I think it would be worth it to expose myself just to get some answers. Honestly, the only thing holding me back now is the knowledge that Eric and Cadmon will also be punished if anyone discovers the truth. After everything they've done for me, everything they've given up, I can't repay them that way. For crying out loud, Cadmon is supposed to be spending this shore leave with his brother, not watching over me.

  
They both tell me they don't regret anything. That they'd do it all again if given the chance. I'm not sure I believe them. It's such a strange idea, being willing to sacrifice so much for someone they barely know. I mean, I know I'd give up everything for one of you, and you all would do the same for me. But what am I to Eric and Cadmon? I commanded them once and went on a couple missions with them, but is that enough? It sounds wrong to admit to, but if our roles had been reversed, I'm not sure I would have done as much for them. Certainly not at the expense of my family members.

  
But again and again, I'm reminded that I'm not like them. I don't think like they do, act like they do, I don't even feel like they do. Reluctantly, I have to admit to what the doctor told me. I'm not human. I can pretend really well; I can play the part, but it's not me anymore.

  
The difference is that I have to pretend if I want to survive. You guys don't, and I envy you so much for that. All of you can be yourselves while I get to be a shadow. I can't decide if I resent you for that or not.

  
When I came home the other day, Cadmon said I looked like a snow sprite. My skin was pale and blue tinted, my hair was frosted, and my eyes were nearly white. I'm sure he said it as a joke, but as we laughed, we realized how true it was, and the mirth faded away. It's scary, sometimes, to think about how different I am.

  
...okay, I just reread this entire thing and can't believe how whiny I'm getting. I'm alive; isn't that enough? I survived things that no one else has and I'm capable of doing so much in my life. This...weakness isn't me. Vincent keeps insisting that something is wrong, something he can't fix or account for, but I don't care. Whatever it is, I'll deal with it later. For now, I just want to sleep and forget that I ever played that damn coin game.

 


	10. My Past Comes Back To Haunt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaine is now an ODST, and the human race is at war. She'd thought her past was hard, but she's starting to realize that her future is even harder. Especially as the scars of the program continue to cause pain. Maybe she should have taken circus lessons, because this is a tightrope she wasn't ready to walk.

My Past Comes Back to Haunt Me  
Time: 2150\  
May 25, 2526  
UNSC Excalibur

“ _Aren't you supposed to have an internal clock or something? Why am I the one that's always left with the task of waking you up on time?_ ”

“Because you're the damn internal clock,” Kaine groaned under her breath, rolling over slightly with a quiet huff. She couldn't hear anyone else moving and had to assume that she'd, yet again, been woken before there was an actual need. Normally, she'd bitch at her AI for hours for that, but if she'd learned nothing else in her first month as an ODST, it was that she really didn't have the control over her 'quirks' as much as she'd thought. Having a single room in Corbulo had spoiled her, and now that she was being forced to share quarters she was slipping far too often. There was only so many times that Eric could cover for her, after all.

Gods, had it only been a month? The very thought was staggering. Thirty days since CAMS had been wiped out of existence, leaving a graduating class of four and no other survivors. Four weeks since her application to skip the Marines and go straight into the ODSTs was approved. One month since a brand new and utterly terrifying war had swallowed her whole.

One month since she'd seen her siblings.

“I don't have time for this,” the redhead growled, angry at herself as she rolled off the bunk and landed firmly on the floor. Her five roommates slept on, blissfully unaware as she gathered her supplies and slipped into the tiny bathroom that they all shared. At six-feet-tall, she certainly felt a degree of being cramped but ignored the slight claustrophobia with the ease of practice. Hell, she'd been in tighter spaces in training...“Not. Doing. This!” she snarled, yanking on her uniform in frustration. “Vincent, what are my orders for the day?”

“ _Eric has you slated for engineering work,_ ” her digital parasite answered blandly. The tone made her pause, wondering just what the hell he was hacking into in the _bathroom_ , of all places. “ _With everything going to Hel in a hand basket, there's no time for any aptitude test for you, so now that you're through the orientation training, he's bouncing you around different departments until we find a place for you to fit._ ”

“If he's hoping to place me outside of combat, he's going to be sorely disappointed,” Kaine sighed, doing up the last of her uniform before silently slipping out of the small room and striding across her quarters. Mitchel was just starting to stir as she stowed her gear and she gave a small wave before exiting the quarters and loping down the hall. Judging by the level of noise and human presence, most of which was subdued and clearly heading to bed, she had to assume that she was assigned to Gamma Duty shift. When had Eric pulled her off of Alpha?

“ _Last night, when he decided it would be better to keep you moving around so that no one could get too close._ ” A good idea, honestly, but it still irritated her. Why couldn't the man just assign her to a single combat group and move on with his life?! It wasn't like she was entirely suited for any other type of military job. “ _You and I both know that Eric is trying to give you a life outside of being a weapon. Besides, he's got his hands full, figuring out how to run this Corps._ ” The redhead had to wince at the thought. These Covenant, whatever else they were, had to have either an amazing intelligence network or extremely talented hackers to have pinpointed the Head of the ODSTs as quickly as they had. The man hadn't stood a chance; ripped to shreds by Jackals before he'd had time to send an SOS. Eric had been named the temporary leader until the Council got their collective heads out of their asses and named an actual successor. However, with every passing day, it became more and more likely that the job was simply his.

“Kaine.” Speak of the Devil. Startled, the teenager turned back quickly, though her expression slid from polite attention to a true smile as the man in question trotted over to her. He looked tired, no doubt pulling double shifts again, even though the CMO had explicitly told him not to. Honestly, the man was more stubborn than most of her siblings...yeah, not going there. “On your way to today's duty station?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered blandly, falling into step beside him when he showed no signs of stopping when he reached her. “I've been assigned to Engineering for the day.” Not that he didn't know, but it was common policy amongst humans to state what was already known to show they understood. Hardly efficient, but the species wasn't exactly known for efficiency.

“Ah, yes, that is where I placed you today, isn't it?” the older man chuckled, sounding like he had forgotten. “Would you be heartbroken if I changed your orders, sir?”

“Not at all, sir,” she replied brightly, allowing the grin to regrow on her face. With any other officer, she would remain professional, but Eric tended to worry when she grew too distant.

“Excellent. You are assigned to the range today, to train with Master Sergeant Jameson.” He smiled down at her, looking far too smug for the news to be anything even vaguely related to good. “As of today, you are a combat sniper.”

“Sir?” Kaine queried, not having to fake her confusion. “I would need to be a Lance Corporal to be a combat sniper.” He couldn't mean what she thought he meant...right?

“You were promoted late last night,” the blonde admitted, giving her a sheepish smile. “I thought your...friend would have told you.”

“ _I like living, thank you._ ” Mentally screaming profanities at the far too smug AI, the redhead could only shake her head. They'd be having words about this later.

“With all of the losses we'd been suffering, the UNSC has been approving early promotions,” he continued, voice dropping as any humor he might have had vanished. “These Covenant...they're more dangerous than we'd originally assumed, and we're losing too many of our soldiers. ODSTs, especially, have been taking large hits since we're usually on the front lines. With the skills you demonstrated at CAMS, both before and during the attack, it was decided to promote you to Lance Corporal. That was not my decision, though I did suggest the MOS of combat sniper. You always seemed to enjoy that position.”

A thousand arguments were instantly on the tip of her tongue, but Kaine painfully swallowed them back. It was not her place to question her commanding officers...though she was sore tempted! And it wasn't like she could lash out against Eric in good conscious. He knew that she didn't want attention, so he wouldn't have put her up for accelerated promotion himself. It had to be someone else's idea. So, though it galled her to do so, the redhead took a deep breath and smiled at her adopted father, not letting any of her actual anger or frustration show.

“I understand, sir,” she said brightly. “If that is all?”

“Sergeant Jameson is assigned to Beta shift, so you have several hours, Lance Corporal,” was his cheerful answer, full out smirking as she scowled up at him. “Though, I don't suppose you'll be going back to sleep anytime soon.”

“I would if I could,” she muttered in frustration, mentally flipping Vincent off as he laughed harder in her mind. “If you don't mind, sir, I think I'm going to take this time to actually eat a full meal for a change.”

“That would certainly give a boost to moral,” Eric laughed before waving her off towards the lifts that would take her to the chow hall. She barely had time to throw him a sarcastic salute before he was hurrying away, ready to deal with whatever snag popped up next. Because gods knew, snags were regular enough to set watches by in the ODST Corps.

“ _Not that different from home, really,_ ” Vincent mused as the redhead entered a lift and signaled for the desired floor. Silently, she had to agree with him. The Spartan program...it had been one snag after another, each one wrapped up in a terrifying little bow. Some snags the trainees had to deal with, some were for the Instructors, but no matter what they were met with little more than anger, frustration, and a slight amount of fear. Hell, John had actually turned the word 'snag' into a curse with how much he hated them. No matter how tired she was, she always found the strength to smile when he'd start muttering about...

...well, she used to always smile at him.

Suddenly realizing that she wasn't actually hungry, Kaine took a sharp left as she exited the lift and hurried down the hall. A few of the ODSTs that she was friendly with called out greetings, but she barely noticed them. The familiar haze of panic was settling over her yet again, and she had to get somewhere hidden. As her breaths came shorter and her hands started trembling, she stumbled into one of the smaller gyms she knew would be abandoned at that time. Hell, it was rarely in use during Alpha shift, so there was no way anyone would be crazy enough to use it during Gamma. And it was dark...so gloriously dark, and she nearly ran for the darkest corner, completely unaware as she leapt over a stack of mats to huddle in the small space.

Gods. Gods. She had not missed this side-effect of augmentations.

She could feel Vincent shifting about in her mind, but if he was saying anything, it was lost in the roar of panic. Her entire body was shaking and it wasn't like 'shut-down' but it was so damn similar and she was supposed to be better than this and-

“No!” she snapped sharply, clenching her eyes shut tightly as she curled up in the tightest ball she could. “Halsey did not break me, and I'm not going to let fucking memories succeed where a demon failed!” They were just words, and she knew that, but it wasn't the words that she needed. It was the attitude, the determination. That's what had pulled her through that far...it would pull her through again...it had to...

* * *

 

The pain was sharp and sudden across her palm, making her release the pole out of instinct before she could think it through. A yell was ripped from her throat as she fell, air rushing past her and the ground was getting closer and she was going to die and, and, and-

A shrill whistle broke through Klare's dreams, wrenching her from her panicked dreams and unceremoniously thrusting her back into reality. She was lost for a full second, trying to comprehend why she wasn't falling, when a body hit the ground beside her and jarred her fully awake. Reach. Spartan program. Training.

Shit.

Launching from her bunk, the redhead scrambled after the other children towards the showers. She could hear the Chief yelling something at them, but it was lost in the roar of her mind and the buzz under her skin. Wait...buzz under the skin...okay, no. Just a remnant from the dream, already fading away. Everything was going to be fine, right? Right?

“Klare?” Startled, she spun around quickly and would have fallen if she hadn't been caught. “Whoa!” John yelled, barely grabbing her arm before she could fully collapse. “Are you okay?!”

“Y-yeah,” she breathed, trying to smile and realizing that there was a stream of soap and water dangerously close to her eye. When the hell did she start washing her hair?! And, of course, because she couldn't ever be graceful around John, the soap just had to attack at that second, making her yelp and scramble back into the shower's spray, which only resulted in blinding her and getting soapy water in her mouth. Sweet Loki, enough! Could she just start this whole day over?! She'd only been awake for three minutes, for Valhalla sake!

“I can see that,” John chuckled from beyond the water before there were suddenly two hands running through her hair, quickly working the suds out. “Careful, or Mendez will write your eulogy completely around how you slipped and died in the shower.”

“He'd do that no matter how I died,” the redhead muttered rebelliously, though she offered no resistance to his actions. If anyone else tried she'd probably knee them in the groin but...well, John was never really held to the same rules as everyone else.

Another shrill whistle and the hands were gone, though this time she was only a fraction of a second behind, running back out of the showers in that careful way they'd all learned to avoid falling. She was at her bunk in a heartbeat, pulling out her sweats before she really had time to think about it. This was the proper uniform for the day, wasn't it? The Chief wasn't going to drop them in the woods again? No, everyone else was putting on their greys, so that must be right. Hell, what had the man been saying while she'd been waking up?!

“Klare, let's go!” Jamming her foot in the boot, the redhead ran for the door, easily catching up to the teammate that had been waiting for her. “That's the slowest you've ever moved! Are you coming down with something?”

“Drop it, Fred,” she hissed, eyes narrowed at him as she surpassed him for the first-row position. James was already in the second row, leaving the annoyance back in the third. Wait, hadn't Will been in the third row? Oh, Frey, they were all doomed. The base would spontaneously combust and it was all her fault.

“LISTEN UP, TRAINEES!” a voice suddenly roared, pitched to hit everyone with an even blast, no matter where the source was. More than one child had been convinced that he'd been right behind them when he roared, but to date, no one had seen him do that. “We've got an easy day for you this time,” the Chief continued, finally walking before the formation so that they could see him. Not that the sight of him lessened any anxiety they were feeling. An 'easy' day usually meant at least one trip to the hospital...for each of them. “But we'll deal with that later. For this morning, let's start with two-hundred push-ups! Perfect way to start this glorious morning, wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes, Chief Petty Officer Mendez!” they all answered sharply; seventy-five voices in perfect harmony after over a year of practice. Several of their Instructors had joked about turning them into a choir, though the way Instructor May was acting it might be less of a joke and more of a threat.

“Then what are you waiting for?!” Mendez roared. “Front-leaning rest position –move!” A short second of flurried movement and they were all in position. “Exercise! One, two, three!”

“One!”

“One, two, three!”

“Two!”

“One, two, three!”

“Three!”

“One, two, three!”

“Four!”

Falling into the comfort of familiar routine, Klare allowed her mind to drift. While she left a portion of her mind on her ears, not wanting to be caught off guard by a change in orders, the majority of her thoughts circled the pain in her right hand. Specifically, the line of pain against her palm. She'd never failed a training exercise to spectacularly before. She knew, they all knew, that the Chief liked to hide surprises. There was no reason she shouldn't have been ready, but she wasn't and she had paid for it. That was bad enough, falling was bad enough, failing was bad enough, but the dreams...they were almost more than she could take. Wasn't it bad enough to fall? Did she have to relive it every night?

“Pick up your feet, trainee!” Instructor Grant suddenly yelled in her ear, making her jerk forward. They're running? When did that start? Oh dammit, did she zone out again?! “You're running like a lamb, trainee! Plant those feet! Lengthen that stride! MOVE IT!” Gritting her teeth, the redhead did as ordered and felt the burn in her legs. Odin's beard, did she really zone through their entire morning PT?! That was either really good or really bad, and she wasn't sure she'd live long enough to find out which one.

Glancing out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Fred and James throwing her worried looks. They'd both been really careful with her since the fall, but everyone's patience had a limit, as she knew too well. If she didn't start improving, soon, they would stage an intervention.

Hearing the Chief's voice and knowing there was only one thing he could be ordering them to do, Klare slowed her pace so that she could come to a dead stop when he yelled, “Halt!” No one dared move, or even breathe hard, as the Chief moved to the front of the line and faced them, smile still firmly attached to his face. “Alright, trainees! We're going to have some fun today. Teams 17 thru 25, you're assigned to Instructor May for some alternate combat games.” The redhead could nearly feel the despair coming from those teams. “Teams 3 thru 16, you're with Instructor Garrison. Not sure what he has planned for all of you.” From the shark smile the man in question was wearing, nothing good. “Which leaves Teams 1 and 2 for Instructor Grant,” Mendez finished happily, grin never slipping. “Except for 113.” The redhead could feel her heart skip a beat at that. “You're with me, trainee. Let's move.” She wanted to argue, she really did, but her training held fast and she trotted after him as the Chief calmly loped away. Behind them, she could hear the Instructors start yelling, but the man before her was perfectly silent. That...was seldom a good thing.

“How are you feeling, 113?” Mendez suddenly asked, voice carefully neutral and not giving her a hint as to how he felt.

“I've recovered fully, Chief,” was her bland answer, gaze kept firmly forward. It was only because of that steady gaze that she was able to throw on her brakes when the older man came to a sudden stop and spun to face her. His expression was dark, forcibly bringing all the things she'd done wrong to the front of her mind. Oh gods, did he figure out that she was the one to relocate all of the coffee machines into the motor pool?!

“That wasn't what I asked, trainee,” he snarled sharply, voice laden down with even more disapproval than his face. “How are you feeling? Truthfully, this time, if it's not too much trouble.” Glare, check. Growl, check. Sarcasm, check. Shit, she was dealing with a tier 3 Angry Chief.

“I feel...nervous, Chief,” she finally admitted, looking at the ground when she couldn't meet his gaze for even one more second. “The wounds have all healed but...I don't like failing.” Silence reigned for several moments before Mendez sighed and started walking again, barely giving her time to follow.

“You ever ride a horse, 113?” Chief asked suddenly, startling the redhead into looking up at him. “My grandparents owned a ranch here on Reach,” he continued, not giving her a chance to answer him. “Used to spend my summers with my ass glued to a saddle, going days without seeing a single human that wasn't on the drive. And let me tell you, I've fallen off more horses than I care to remember. But my grandpa always said, 'When you fall off, you gotta get right back on.' So today, I'm telling you the exact same thing.” He came to a sudden stop, surprising Klare into looking around and realizing they'd reached the playground. Standing tall before them, with her blood still staining the wood, was the very pole she'd fallen from. “Get back on, trainee.”

“Yes, sir,” she said numbly, barely feeling the words drop from her lips as her blood turned to ice. Distantly, she knew that her palms were sweating and that her legs were shaking. The knowledge was right there, but she couldn't do anything about it. And, as she quickly discovered, she couldn't move forward either. Though she kept screaming at her body to just move dammit, her feet stayed firmly planted.

“Sometime today, 113,” Chief chided, voice low and warm, which was certainly not what she'd expected. “The traps have been turned off. You just need to climb to the top. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she repeated, and her legs finally started obeying as she staggered forward towards the pole. However, the moment her fingers brushed against the grain, her mind went absolutely blank and her body locked down. There was a roar in her ears that she couldn't understand or even begin to think beyond, and then there were hands on hers, pulling her away from the pole, away from the feeling of rushing air and snapping bones. Arms were wrapped around her, strong and firm, and a steady voice in her ear finally filtered past the all-consuming fear.

“Focus, 113. Focus on my voice. Nothing else matters, nothing else is holding your attention. Just listen to my voice and focus on me. You're safe. You're on the ground. 113, can you hear me?”

“Chief,” she croaked, wondering distantly why her voice sounded so wet. She wasn't...crying...was she? Oh, sweet Loki, she was.

“I'm right here, 113,” Mendez's voice rumbled behind her, making her entire body shake as she was pressed so close against him. Wait, no. She was shaking even when he wasn't talking. “Come on, turn with me.” He was moving, twisting away, and she had no choice but to move her own feet or be dragged along.

Just like that, the pole was gone and she could suddenly breathe once more. With that realization, her knees abruptly gave way and she would have fallen if the Chief had not been holding her so tightly. “Easy, 113. I've got you. I've got you.”

“I'm sorry,” Klare gasped, feeling like the words were made of sandpaper as she pulled them from her throat. “I'm so sorry.” For not being brave enough. For failing. For falling. For not obeying orders. For-

“You have nothing to be sorry for, trainee,” was the painfully blunt retort as the arms retreated, leaving the redhead as a shaking pile on the ground. “You're not the first person to develop a fear of falling after an experience like the one you went through. And let me tell you something, 113; this fear breaks most people. They can't ever go up high again, always living in terror of the idea of slipping. But this isn't going to beat you; this isn't going to break you.” A horrible feeling started crawling up her spine as she looked up sharply, catching the very edges of his look of complete determination. “You're going to climb this pole every day until you overcome this fear.”

True to his word, Chief brought Klare back to the pole every day. He'd pull her out of Deja's class, interrupt her dinners, remove her from missions. One day, after she'd specifically avoided him for hours, he walked directly into the showers as they were all scrubbing and marched her out to the playground, buck-naked. Nothing short of a debilitating injury would deter him, and his demands grew with each passing day.

That wasn't to say that Klare was improving very much. The mere sight of the wood was still enough to make her heart skip a beat, and she spent the majority of her time either hyperventilating in terror or clinging to the pole with a death grip that Mendez always struggled to break. But, as time went on, she slowly learned to get off the ground and begin her climb. Some days she barely made it more than a couple centimeters. Others, she'd get several meters before the terror would lock everything down. Once, she was only two meters from the top when a sudden wind storm came up, whipping her around and triggering a panic that resulted in Mendez rushing her to medical.

The other Spartans were vaguely aware of what she was doing, but once she'd made it clear that she didn't want to talk about her trials, they all gave her the privacy she desired. Even Fred learned to hold his tongue, though he made his displeasure clearly known. John alone was allowed to inquire as to her progress and quickly learned that just because he could ask didn't mean that he could press when an answer was not forthcoming. So the time dragged by, slow and torturous in a way they'd all become accustomed to, and Klare waited, impatiently, for the day she'd finally learn if the Chief had been right.

“This is not what I had in mind,” she sighed darkly, glaring up the towering spruce, adamantly ignoring the now familiar sensation of sweat on her palms. “Of all the days for Linda to get food poisoning...” Knowing full well that she was stalling, the redhead took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched forward, grabbing the lower limbs tightly and tensing her muscles to swing her body up to begin the climb.

Nothing happened.

Breathing out explosively in anger and frustration, she allowed her head to fall forward and strike the rough bark, uncaring that she might have just opened a new wound. “Come on!” she growled under her breath, clenching her fists to the point of pain against the limbs. “It's a damn tree! You climbed bigger and scarier when you were four!” But she'd never fallen from them...

Looking up towards the sky, resolutely ignoring just how far she'd have to climb, Klare tried to find the sun. She knew she needed to be in position before the Pelican came in for the rendezvous, which meant she had...ten minutes. Not enough, definitely not enough! Hell, it would take her ten minutes just to convince her body to reach for the second level of branches.  
But they were counting on her...

John was counting on her...

“Don't think, just do,” the redhead breathed, closing her eyes and taking in the quiet of the forest around her. “Don't think, just do.” Forcing her grip to loosen, she relaxed her muscles as much as she could before quickly pulling herself up, settling on the branch using only her sense of touch. “Don't think, just do.” Reaching up blindly, she grabbed the next branch and, after testing that it would hold her weight, quickly swung up. She could almost feel the bark against her forehead, warning her just how close her face was to the trunk, but she used the sensation to orient herself as she grabbed her next perch and quickly pulled herself up. Half-a-dozen branches later, she opened her eyes to figure out how much farther she had to go, but she resolutely refused to look down.

“Don't think, just do,” she continued to breathe as she went from branch to branch. “Don't think, just do. Don't think, just do. Don't think, just-” Her foot suddenly slipped, crashing through lower limbs as she yelped and scrambled for a handhold. It was more luck than skill that she managed a single grab at a thick branch, leaving her hanging over a drop she couldn't even begin to think about. Adrenaline raced through her veins and her breath was ragged. Terror was clawing up her spine, digging its claws into her mind, intent on leaving her a shaking, sobbing mess.

John was counting on her.

Pulling in a deep breath past the sobs that she couldn't control, Klare forced her body to move, reaching up through the needles to grab another branch and haul herself back up. The second her body was fully supported her knees tried to buckle, but she locked them tight, dragged in a couple more gasps, and reached for the next branch. She couldn't shake the terror that was clinging to her back, but she could refuse it the satisfaction of bringing her down. So she kept going, hand over hand, branch after branch. When she had breath, she kept up her mantra of “Don't think, just do,” and when she didn't have the air to spare, she mouthed the words.

Don't think, just do.

The wind started picking up, plucking at her clothes as the tree began to sway. She wanted to slow down, wanted to pause for a moment, but the seconds were passing by and she knew she had to be ready for the Pelican. So she kept going.

Don't think, just do.

Finally reaching the branch she needed, Klare swung herself up so that she was straddling the perch, taking a deep breath before she turning around and seeing the entirety of the canyon displayed before her. The sky was still a brilliant blue, uninterrupted by cloud or machine.

Don't think, just do.

Her hands wanted to tremble as she pulled the sniper rifle over her head, but she held them firm as she checked all of the settings. Linda had told her how everything was supposed to look and she couldn't find any deviations, so hopefully, they were set. All she had to do was wait for the Pelican to arrive and shoot the pilot through the cockpit. Easy...so long as she kept breathing.

Don't think, just do.

Pulling the rifle up to settle it against her shoulder, Klare pressed the scope in close, falling into the breathing pattern that they'd all been taught to use while handling sniper rifles. Her ears had just picked up the first hint of the Pelican's engine, leaving her with approximately forty-five seconds. But the wind was still blowing and the tree was still shaking and the terror was still right there, hissing in her ears.

Don't think, just do.

The Pelican cleared the treeline, reflecting light and nearly blinding the redhead as she squinted through the pain. There was only one way for the ship to approach the hidden landing pad, so she couldn't afford to close her eyes and miss that single moment. Her eyes were watering and her knuckles were white and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to unclench her thighs from the branch, but dammit all, she was not missing the shot.

Don't think, just do.

Don't think, just do.

Don't think, just do.

Don't think.

Just do.

The rifle bucked hard in her hands, slamming into her shoulder with a painful, yet satisfying jolt. She couldn't see her target, but from the sudden bellow of rage from the canyon, she must have hit. The elation that followed that realization was quickly overtaken, however, by the sudden and intense knowledge of what she had done. She'd climbed the tree and made the shot, even with terror and fear dogging her every step. She'd succeeded in defeating them for a single battle, just like Chief had said she would...

She'd won.

The rush of relief and pure joy that swept through Klare was so powerful, she could only throw back her head and laugh, long and loud. Whatever sanity she might have retained noted that there was a hysterical edge to her laughter, but it hardly mattered. She'd done it! After months of shaking limbs and ragged breathing and throwing up and crying, she'd done it!

“I can hear you, 113,” Chief's voice suddenly called through the limbs beneath her, capturing the redhead's attention. “Get down here.”

“Yes, sir!” she yelled back, unable to wipe the smile off of her face as she swung a leg over her perch to sit comfortably. However, before her brain could work through a logical plan on how to climb down, the giddiness overtook everything, and she jumped. For the first time since her fall, the rush of air was welcome and she felt, for possibly the first time in her life, like she was home.

Mendez didn't say anything when she landed next to him, needles in her hair and a smile the size of a Corvette cruiser on her face. He didn't say anything as he escorted her back to the Spartan RV point, nor when they all loaded up and returned to base. He made no mention of her actions as he debriefed them on the result of the mission, noting only that her stun round had hit the pilot directly in the chest, therefore making the mission a complete success. In fact, the only reference he made that anything outside of the ordinary had happened was when

he personally gave her a bowl of her favorite ice cream after dinner, saying that she'd earned it. “For beating the bastard.” He didn't have to say anything to tell her that he was proud.

She understood.

* * *

“Don't think, just do. Don't think, just do. Don't think. Just do.” The change was slow, far slower than she preferred, but her shakes eventually faded, allowing Kaine to uncurl and lean against the wall, breath still rough and uneven. “I hate panic attacks,” she muttered under her breath, eyes closed firmly as she worked on slowing her heart rate. The last thing she needed was another heart-attack.

“ _I'm not that fond of them myself,_ ” Vincent sassed, impressing the image of him cleaning up a bunch of items that had clearly been thrown about. “ _Damn things keep messing up my filing system._ ” The image was absurd enough to make her smile against her will as she slowly stood up, feeling her muscles pull and release with the movement. A quick check was all she needed to reassure herself that nothing had torn or broken in her mad dash for safety. And, considering Eric hadn't called for her or come looking, she doubted anyone had seen and reported her. Hopefully, the entire episode had gone unnoticed and she could pretend it hadn't happened. “ _Or you can actually practice healthy coping techniques and talk to someone._ ”

“Not happening,” the redhead snorted as she carefully made her way to the exit. After a panic attack, her control of her body was always a little weak, leaving her more prone to punching dents into solid steel walls. Not the best way to keep a low profile. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“ _Hot breakfast, yes. There is a cold breakfast spread right now, and I'm sure if they actually saw you eating the cooks would be willing to cook you something._ ”

“Very funny,” she snidely hissed at him as she left the room and rejoined the ship's population. The hall was abandoned when she appeared, but another ODST rushed past her only a handful of seconds later. From the lack of electricity or alarms, she could only assume the panic on his face was personal. Maybe he'd slept through his alarm? New ODSTs were quite prone to that. But it didn't matter to her, so she refocused her mind and quickly trotted towards the closest Mess.

As Vincent had warned, the only food available were things that could be served cold, like muffins or cereal, but the redhead was able to build a nutritionally acceptable plate and quickly found a seat. The nice aspect of Gamma shift was that there were never very many people about. In the entire Mess, she saw less than fifty people and they were all focused on their food, just as she was. Only one person waved; a First Sergeant that she'd worked with the week before. Also the only man that knew what she looked like when she trips over her own feet while carrying buckets of melted ice cream out of a broken freezer.

“ _Yeah, that was a good day,_ ” the AI chuckled in her head, outright laughing when she mentally flipped him off before she blatantly started ignoring him. It had taken a couple years, but she'd learned how to tune out his electric voice, because it was learn that skill or go absolutely insane. She really should have thought about it when she'd agreed to stick the digital construct in her own body, but an AI never shut up. They never stopped thinking or gathering information or running simulations. Though Vincent could press certain thoughts firmly into her mind as a way of speaking, the truth was that he was always there, as a constant whine of noise in the back of her skull. Learning to block that sound from her conscious mind was the only way to not be driven to blowing her brains out. Not that it would have been his fault. Deja had warned them about why AI's were only ever in chips that could be removed. If she'd just listened better in class-

“Don't go there,” Kaine growled, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes as her mind tried to dive back into her memories. “Don't do it! That time is gone and dead; leave it buried!”

“You okay, man?” The redhead glanced up quickly to see another redhead watching her worriedly. It took a moment to realize that, yes, this person was actually an ODST like her. He was wearing the right uniform and insignias and everything, despite being almost comically short. Gold comet, Private's patch, and a green band around his cuff. Wait, what? How was he already a sniper?

“I'm fine,” she grunted, glancing up quickly and catching the moment he realized she wasn't a male. His expression was almost enough to make her smile. “Just...bad memories. And I don't feel like company.” Luckily for them both, he took the hint and walked away, not looking too upset about her rudeness. All she had to deal with the specter of her Grandfather's butler, chastising her for her lack of manners. And it was that same insubstantial memory that goaded her into eating everything she'd put on her plate. No reason to waste food, especially with how fast her metabolism was.

Eventually, however, she had to admit that she was hiding. From what, she didn't know and couldn't say, but she recognized the tightening in her chest and the way her feet felt like lead. So, contrary to what every instinct she had was telling her to do, she returned her empty plate and left the Mess, wandering the halls for something to occupy her time with. Eventually, she came across an empty observation room and went inside, breathing in the chilled air and basking in the silence. Choosing a plush couch, the redhead gratefully flopped onto it, hearing the warning creak of the springs but, when nothing broke, she put it from her mind. It was rare to find a quiet moment on the ship, so she was determined to enjoy it.

Truthfully, the Excalibur was the strangest ship she'd ever been on. Many ships, she knew, were either stationed in a specific area or were traveling around in slipspace. During times of war, no one could afford the luxury of moving slowly or at their own pace, but that was exactly what the Excalibur did. As the ODST Command Ship, it traveled through space to avoid having its location pinned down, but it rarely rushed anywhere. Instead, it cycled through the Corps, sending them out and receiving them back as needed. Every ODST spent their first year assigned to the ship, learning from the veterans and perfecting their skills. Once that training was complete, they'd bounce around wherever their orders took them, but the Excalibur...it was always their home.

Eric had once told her the Excalibur was big enough to hold every ODST, and she was inclined to believe him. As a Valiant-class cruiser, they had the room and equipment necessary to house nearly 25,000 soldiers, and every division held 1,500 soldiers. With ten divisions, they had plenty of room left over for the rest of the ship's crew. But in reality, there was rarely more than a couple thousand people aboard at any one time. With the Covenant slaughtering every human they saw and the Insurrection continuing to be bastards with very large bombs, nearly every ODST available was out on deployment. Only the newbies, the injured, and the ship maintenance remained, though some units between missions would drop in from time to time. Truthfully, it was barely controlled insanity and the redhead could clearly remember how her grandparents complained about how ODSTs were overgrown children playing a dangerous game of 'cowboys-vs-Indians', but there was a certain amount of warped logic in the system that she could appreciate. It gave them an air of mystery, and when facing an enemy that is learning you far faster than you are learning it, any unpredictability you have becomes an asset.

None of which changed the fact that the Excalibur sometimes reminded her more of a cruise ship and less a dangerous battle cruiser. There were enough scattered lounges around that anyone with enough determination could find an out-of-the-way corner to hide with their thoughts. A habit she was, admittedly, a bit too fond of.

In fact, Kaine was so deep in thought for a while that she didn't notice when the door slid open, but she certainly jumped when someone chuckled. It wasn't a trial to make the move clumsy, trying to hide her usual grace though it seemed to have abandoned her before she could look over and see who had disturbed her. “Master Sergeant Jameson,” she yelped, startled and not completely understanding what she was seeing. “I thought we were meeting during Beta.”

“That was the plan,” the older man said with a smile, eyes nearly dancing with amusement. “But Faldon mentioned you were up and I'm not that tired, so I thought we could get a head-start. Sound good to you, Lance Corporal?”

“Of course, Master Sergeant,” she answered quickly, trying to ignore the pain in her chest and the shaking in her hands. Somehow, when Eric had mentioned who would be training her, she hadn't realized it would be her dead friend's father. He had the same warm, hazel eyes as his son, with short brown hair that was just starting to grey at the temples. For a brief moment, she could only wonder if this was what her friend would have looked like, if he had lived.

“Let's get moving then,” Jameson said briskly, gesturing for her to follow as he strode out of the room. The redhead actually had to trot to keep up with him. For being un-enhanced, he was unusually quick. “Faldon mentioned that you've had sniper experience before, and Teddy always said you were the best shot he'd ever seen. So I take it we can skip the basics.”

“I've had a little training before, yes,” Kaine confirmed, frowning. “Father always said I was a natural. Master Sergeant, if I may? Who is Teddy? I don't remember anyone with that name.” The look he gave her was sad, with just enough of a hint of being haunted for it to click in her mind. She'd never bothered to learn Jameson's first name back in Corbulo. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, needing to look away. “I wasn't thinking.”

“Not your fault, Lance Corporal,” the man assured, giving her a small smile. “That school was a hellhole that no one should have escaped, and that you did is nothing short of a miracle. I refuse to blame you for something you had no way of stopping or changing.” The redhead had to bite her cheek to stop herself from blurting that she could have done something. She was a Spartan! There had to have been more that she could have done to save them. But the past was in the past, and she couldn't dwell on it. All that she would accomplish was driving herself further into depression.

As they pulled closer to the training range, the number of people in the halls slowly increased. Gamma shift had the lowest number of on-duty personnel, but it was also a good time to get in some extra training. That didn't mean that she was comfortable with the press of bodies around her. “ _You would think the great minds of the Spartan program would have taught you how to tolerate other humans._ ”

'You would also think that you'd have better things to do than insult the adults of the program.'

“ _Well, everyone needs a hobby._ ”

“Welcome to your new home,” Jameson suddenly said, snapping Kaine back into reality as they entered the training range. “You're going to be spending most of your time here until you're cleared for field missions again.”

“So, about a week then,” she joked, taking the time to actually observe the space. She'd logged over a hundred hours in the virtual training range three decks up, but it was her first time being in the live range, and she could honestly say she was impressed. At a thousand meters long, it could be used by snipers and standard issue riflemen alike. Dumb AIs were at each station, moving and switching targets as requested. Any soldier with a bit of determination and some careful planning could stage entire battle formations with the targets, giving new ODSTs a taste of how to deal with troop movements. According to Eric, they even had different sized targets to help snipers learn to hit targets that were 'farther' than a thousand meters away.

“With your skill, probably,” the older soldier agreed with a wry smile. “But let's see what you can do. What was your farthest accurate shot?” A little over four-thousand meters, but she couldn't say that without getting looks of disbelief. Not to mention making those claims would get ONI on her ass faster than she could blink.

“Around sixteen-hundred meters,” she shrugged, knowing it was a respectable distance without giving away the true extent of her skill. “That was the distance required to graduate the class at Corbulo.”

“And how often did you hit that target?”

“Five shots, five hits.” Okay, yes, she was bragging a bit. Linda had drilled her for months to make her into a sniper, and she hated disappointing her teachers. Besides, her skill reflected on her sister and she would never allow her actions to dishonor any of her siblings. If she did, they'd probably find her and kill her themselves.

“Then we truly can skip the basics,” he dryly replied. “Let's start with a C-size target at a thousand meters. Would you prefer kneeling or prone position?”

“I don't have much experience with prone,” the redhead admitted, a sarcastic curl in the corner of her mouth. “Usually, I'm either taking the shot from a tree or standing behind a wall.”

“Ah, a trick-shot. Lovely.” There was a world of emotion and experience in his voice, hinting at a million stories that she wanted to hear but was afraid to ask about. “Let's start with prone, then, and we'll see if you're actually good or simply complicated.” She bristled, and she knew she was growling quietly, but she bit her tongue and left him to pick a station as she went to checkout a sniper rifle. The Sergeant in charge of the armory needed to check with Eric before he could give her the equipment, but after everything was sorted she was trotting back to the Master Sergeant with a box of ammunition and an SRS 99C. Seeing that her lane was already set, she didn't bother with small-talk as she got into the prone position and slapped a full magazine into the weapon. “Alright, Lance Corporal. Light it up.”

Fifty-seven targets later, Kaine's concentration broke when Jameson chuckled. “Something funny?” she asked as she finally pulled away from the scope to brush some hair from her face. She'd have to get it cut soon if this was to be her permanent MOS.

“You're hitting them all in the head,” the older soldier answered easily, giving her a look of utter amusement. “Perfect shots, every one. I can see why Eric put you here.”

“Isn't the point of all this training to shoot them in the head every time?” the redhead felt compelled to ask as she ejected the spent magazine and slapped in a new one.

“The point of training is to hit wherever you aim,” he corrected as the next set of targets rotated in and she resettled herself, focused entirely on the scope. “The head, the chest, the arms, legs, shoulders. Whatever you need to shoot to complete the mission. Your accuracy is impressive, but you can mix it up a bit. Show some mercy.” He didn't notice her flinch at the word, but he did take an interest when she pushed herself back from the rifle and lowered her head, nearly pressing it against the rubber of the pad.

* * *

There had been a time when Klare had hated the sensation of cold metal. It never meant anything good in her life. The feeling was painful and damaging; there was no soothing moment that many people claimed to have felt. But then she'd been dragged into this hellhole, and cold metal had become a constant. The cold of her bunk. The cold of a military transport. The cold of the seats in Deja's class. All constant and steady and present. Something she could rely on. More than any other, though, was the cold of her gun. That was a sensation she was far too familiar with. A feeling she never wanted to know, let alone find comfort in.

“Trainee 113,” Mendez barked, voice loud and rumbling. However, the redhead only glanced up, continuing the reconstruction of her side-arm. The Chief had always told them that nothing should come between them and the proper maintenance of their weapons. If that meant not giving him her full attention, so be it. And he understood because he settled for giving her a look before sarcastically gesturing to the open gate. “Your turn.”

The Spartan nodded, quickly looking back at the metal in her hands as she sped up the reconstruction. It only took another couple seconds to have the piece back together, and then she was shoving it into her holster, grabbing her pack, and jogging through the open gate. She could nearly feel the eyes of the others on her back as she vanished into the undergrowth, but she ignored it with the ease of practice. Wasn't like they had anything left to say to each other.

Was it so hard to believe that she, the freak with the danger sense, thought someone outside the program was trying to kill them? She'd heard Chief Mendez and Dr. Halsey discussing it! Those men at the Pelican on that one mission...they'd received other orders. Orders that would have resulted in some of her siblings going to the medical wing, at the very least. So she'd tried to warn the others, and what had they done? Laughed at her. Called her paranoid. Kept insisting that there couldn't be boogeymen waiting for them in the shadows. And when she'd insisted, they'd gotten angry. Accused her of being an alarmist, or of trying to win. Seriously. John had blown up in her face about how intimidation wouldn't work on him and she should stop trying to cheat her way into winning this...thing.

Ignoring the fact that the program wasn't a damn competition, the accusations had made Klare sick to her stomach. She hadn't been hurt that bad since, well, since Lillian had accused her of cheating. There was a small part of her mind that wondered just when the group of random children had started meaning so much to her, but a larger part questioned why they didn't believe. Why didn't they trust?

And, as was the usual way of things, that pain turned to anger. She couldn't stand their blatant disregard and accusations, so she broke away from it. Separated herself from everyone around her as much as she could while having to live in the same physical space as them. It took her a couple days to come upon the perfect plan, but once she had, she stuck to it with a determination none of them had ever seen.

She quit talking.

The Instructors tried to order her out of silence, the Spartans tried to antagonize her into talking, but she was nothing if not unbearably stubborn to a fault, so she kept her mouth closed. In a year and a half, the closest she came to speaking was growling at people that got too close. Mendez had finally gotten tired of everyone trying to break her resolve and had issued a base-wide order that she was to be left in peace; he flat-out yelled at John that the Spartans had fucked up the situation on their own, so they could damn well fix it.

A shift in the breeze brought the redhead to a stop. She could smell the damp and decay that meant a hidden pond, but it was too faint to worry about. Much more worrisome was the musk of the creature that had marked its territory just a couple meters from her position. As she hadn't seen any territory markers that far, she would be moving into the potentially dangerous area. Could she take the time to identify the animal she was risking conflict with?

Her Spartan training warred with what her Grandfather had always taught her about the forest. She knew her forest-lore like the back of her hand; she'd always played in the forest around their home and Grandfather had taught her how to survive there. Lillian was absolutely hopeless, it was true, but a forest was like Klare's second home. If there was an animal nearby, she knew how to handle it. But on the other side, she'd spent the last three-and-a-half years getting soldier-lore pounded into her skull. The creature was an unknown variable, a possible snag, and she needed to neutralize that threat as quickly as she could.

Except she had no time. From the moment she'd stepped into the training area, the clock had started. She had exactly one hour to find the Insurrection base and neutralize the threat that they posed. Tracking down an animal she couldn't even be sure was dangerous would eat into that time. So, though something inside her snarled darkly at the thought, she moved on quickly, keeping all of her senses on alert.

Her senses. Just another item on the list of things that the other Spartans refused to consider as a subject they should think about. They all had monthly check-ups with Dr. Halsey; it was as much a part of their lives as eating was. But in the last several months, she'd started giving injections at each meeting. Klare hadn't thought anything of it, especially as the other people around the base had started getting sick from a nasty flu virus, but then she'd noticed slight changes in herself. She could hear conversations from across the training fields. She could taste the individual spices the cooks had used and could tell when an item of food had gone bad from the smell alone. Her sweats, previously as soft as any piece of insulated fabric could be, were suddenly scratchy and had a strange scent clinging to them. Runs to the playground were suddenly a game of counting how many pure white pebbles she stepped on...because she could see every one of them.

Of course, no one else thought there was anything strange going on. Fred had said she was imagining things, though he had later confided that he'd noticed the same changes in himself. Unlike the redhead, he thought the changes were natural. 'We're growing up,' he'd told her with a smile as he'd ruffled her hair. 'That's all this is.'

She didn't believe that.

A rustle behind her brought Klare to her knees in a crouch, body instantly braced for a fight as her mind raced to identify the threat. When it had, however, the redhead settled for groaning and letting her head fall face-first into the forest floor. All of which was watched with avid fascination by the small rabbit that had triggered the whole thing.

Getting back to her feet slowly, the child gestured rudely at the fluffy forest creature before quickly striding away, needing to make up for lost time. The path she was using bore faint signs of being used by humans, and none of the signs matched the sizes of the Spartans that had gone before her. Not to mention any Spartan stupid enough to leave signs would have failed the exercise anyway. Still, she wasn't expecting the trail to lead directly where she needed to be, so she almost stumbled out of the thick undergrowth before she realized just how bad an idea that would be.

Locking her body to avoid even the slightest movements, Klare carefully peered through the limbs of the bush she'd taken shelter within. The base was tiny, meant for information gathering only, and their compliment was small. Twenty soldiers all told, and five civilian scientists that were running the equipment. Nothing too serious, but they had transmission equipment, which meant she had to take them out faster than they could get out an SOS.

Silently feeling grateful for her forethought about the mission, the redhead carefully worked her way out of the bush and retreated slightly into the trees once more. Once she was relatively certain she was hidden once more, she jogged around the perimeter, looking for the perfect tree. She could use stealth to infiltrate the base and knife everyone, but from the patrols she'd seen, it would be easier, and safer, to snipe the bastards instead. Besides, she'd lugged the sniper rifle all the way out there; she might as well use it. And really, she had to find a way to silently thank Linda for teaching her how to use the thing. Ever since that tree, she'd loved being a sniper. Getting high still wasn't her favorite thing in the world, but being able to jump down after? That was what she lived for anymore.

Wasn't like she had a lot of other options.

It was a quiet twig snap that saved the redhead, bringing her to her knees as the soldier that had been trying to sneak up on her lunged over her head. Twisting quickly, she grabbed the man by the throat and pulled him down with her, slamming him into the ground. His head struck a rock, cutting off his already weak cry of surprise as it thrust him into unconsciousness, but when she quickly checked she knew the wound wasn't fatal. Snarling quietly under her breath, she grabbed a nearby vine and bound him like she would a hog before gagging him. It wouldn't be enough to stop a determined soldier, but with his injury, it would buy her the time she needed.

Ignoring the tiny sliver of her mind that said she should just slit the man's throat, Klare looked around quickly. The tree a meter away was perfect for what she needed, so she dragged the limp body over and left it hidden in the large roots before quickly climbing up. It rubbed her the wrong way, leaving an enemy at her back, but the soldier barely looked over the age of sixteen and she couldn't bring herself to end his life. Maybe he was an Insurrectionist because he truly believed in the cause, maybe he was only in because he was made to, but either way, he wasn't a lost cause. He'd go to a military prison and maybe they'd be able to talk him back into the UNSC. She had to give him that choice. It was more than she'd been granted.

The rest of the mission passed in a blur of dropping targets and rushing wind. Hadn't taken more than a couple minutes to shoot every guard she could see, watching them go down in a spray of red and then hitting the next. Once she'd gotten them all, she'd jumped from the tree and ran the perimeter to capture the remaining border guard. He put up a decent fight and she had to bash his head in with a rock before she could race across the clearing, slipping inside the base and knifing everyone she found. Altogether, it took her less than ten minutes to clear the base, which was actually a bit...disappointing. It never occurred to her that advanced senses would make missions so much easier.

“113!” Perking up, Klare quickly wiped her knife on the uniform of her last victim and hurried out of the building. Trotting outside, she spotted Halsey instantly, standing over the still-bound teenager and glaring darkly. “Do you want to explain this?” Not really, and Halsey wasn't a soldier so she couldn't order the redhead to do anything, so she shook her head. The angry twitch of the Doctor's left eye nearly made her smile, but she kept her facial muscles under control. “Very well, then give me your sidearm, trainee,” the woman snarled, holding out a hand. It wasn't what the child had expected at all, so she obeyed on autopilot, pulling out the weapon and giving it over butt first.

That lack of attention cost her because she could barely see Halsey spin the weapon in her grip before she was being struck in the face. The sharp edges of her weapon sliced deep into the thin skin around her eye, instantly making the organ burn as she literally saw red. A cry met her ears, but it took a moment to realize that it was her own voice as she was driven to her knees. Everything was spinning and her head was throbbing, and her vision was off because she could only use one eye, but she heard the sounds of movement and looked up in time to see Halsey shoot her prisoner three times in the chest.

“Let me make something clear, Spartan,” the Doctor said, voice cold and hard as ice. “Unless otherwise stated, there will be no capturing of prisoners. You are not a soldier. You are a weapon. Which means you live by three simple rules.” She turned back to the bleeding child, eyes blank of remorse as she casually strolled over. “You give no mercy.” She stopped before Klare, nearly sounding bored. “You have no mercy.” Then the weapon was moving again, striking the redhead higher on her face and on the opposite side. She could feel the bone crack as daggers were shoved through her brain, and she cried out again as she fell to the side. The sound was strange to her ears. Not like a child being struck, but like a wildcat being shot. A sound that referenced a pain so deep and guttural, it could only vaguely be understood. “You can afford no mercy.” The voice barely drifted through the pain, and then the gun was dropped before her face and she could hear the steps as Halsey walked away.

She knew she should get up. The exercise was over, and they'd be collecting the stunned soldiers that had been playing the parts of the Insurrectionists soon. She needed to be gone before they reached her. Hel, her time was probably up, but she kept laying there. She could feel the blood soaking the ground beneath her head, but she didn't move. Her mind seemed frozen, unwilling to move for fear of the pain it would trigger if she did. And when Mendez finally found her and she heard him call her name, she didn't respond. Halsey had done what she had been trying to do since the first day. She'd broken her.

And Klare couldn't bring herself to care.

Being picked up was near agony, and the redhead knew she tried to lash out, but her head felt like it was being split open ever time she moved, so she forced her body to stay still as someone wrapped her in their arms and started running. Whatever parts of her mind weren't wracked by pain assumed that it was the Chief that was carrying her, but then she picked up that strange scent of sugar and gunpowder that she was almost too familiar with. 'John,' she mouthed, unsure if any sound had come out, but the arms tightened and the speed increased. Slowly, she started picking out his voice from the cloud of pain that she felt trapped in, but there wasn't enough focus left to translate what he was saying. Instead, she let the noise wash over her like a blanket, knowing she was safe so long as she could hear him. John wouldn't let anything happen to her; he was a spoiled brat at the best of times, but he loved the Spartans too much to simply allow them to be hurt.

John would keep her safe.

* * *

“Wasn't really trained to show mercy, Master Sergeant,” Kaine finally breathed through gritted teeth, bringing up her head and pulling herself to the scope once more. “More like...I was taught that I can't afford mercy.”

“Well then, your teacher is a Galaxy-class asshole,” Jameson said bluntly, needing to look away to get his anger at the statement under control. “This is war; there's too much hatred on both sides to actually forbid mercy. Remember, Lance Corporal, it's not rage or passion that will bring an end to this bloodbath. It's mercy and kindness. Now, no more lethal shots. Shoot to incapacitate only.”

“Understood, Master Sergeant,” she growled, shifting her focus as she aimed again. The tension didn't abate, though she still made every shot perfectly. Despite her accuracy not changing, it was obvious that she was much slower than her previous work.

“Enough,” Jameson finally cut in, unable to hide his frustration. “I don't know what just happened, but we're done for the day, Faldon. Here.” He handed her two patches, which she identified as Lance Corporal insignias once they were in her hands. “Get those on your uniform so you don't have to call the General to verify your promotion anymore. Then clean your weapon, log everything back in, and get your head on straight before our next session. Understood?”

“Understood,” Kaine answered sharply, already moving to gather her gear and vacate the station. She couldn't look him in the face as she hurried away, shame burning low in her gut. If she'd ever needed proof that something was wrong with her, she had it. What type of monster struggled to do anything other than kill?

“ _I know it won't help, but you're not a monster,_ ” Vincent said quietly, gently pressing against her mind and not flinching when she tried to shove him away. “ _I called it._ ”

'Did I ask?'

“ _You never do, which is why I say it anyway. It's the only way to get you to consider an opinion that didn't come out of the polluted muck that you call a mind._ ” Scowling, the redhead couldn't do anything other than flick him away as she quickly stripped the rifle and cleaned it. The Sergeant in charge of the armory gave her a bit of a wide-eyed stare at the speed she completed the task at, reminding her for the millionth time that she needed to control her actions better. She'd been out of the program for less than two years; it wasn't impossible for Halsey to catch wind of her and pull her back. Or shoot her. Either way, her life would end. “ _Honestly, is it impossible for you to have positive thoughts? I'd settle for an only-slightly-morbid opinion._ ”

'I'd settle for an AI that could keep his thoughts on his own work. We don't always get what we want.'

“ _You are my work. Have been ever since I first saw you, flipping off ODSTs and wrestling with overgrown caterpillars._ ” Despite her best efforts, Kaine couldn't stop the sound of amusement that escaped her at his words. To think, she'd almost forgotten about those things. “ _See, this is why you need me. I remind you of the good things in life._ ”

'Yeah, I suppose you do,' she had to admit, smiling gently as she returned the rifle and extra ammunition to the armory and quickly trotted away. From the noise and action, Gamma shift had come to an end and Alpha was starting to take their place. That meant another six hours until she was to be on duty. She wasn't hungry, she'd caught up on all of her paperwork, and she didn't really feel like training after the fool she'd made of herself. That left attaching her new stripes and staring into space.

“I'm starting to see why the Instructors never gave us free time,” she muttered under her breath, dodging around a group of gossiping engineers. “Boredom isn't exactly a safe state for me to be in.” There was no reply from her AI, but she wouldn't be surprised if he was giving her one of his patently unimpressed looks. “Where's General Faldon? He must have something for me to do.”

“ _He's on the Bridge, being screamed at by the CMO. I'd estimate another ten minutes before he is marched back to his quarters by armed guards and then sedated. However, he clearly was prepared for this event; I just found a file named 'Kaine Busy Work'. Some pretty good stuff in here; what are you interested in?_ ”

“Something that will keep my mind busy, even if my body stays still.”

“ _Got one. You have the security clearance to view recordings of Covenant attacks. Your task is to analyze enemy tactics, extrapolate overall strategies, and attempt to plan counters that we can implement in combat. Anything you come up with is to be submitted to Eric as your direct commanding officer, and he will review everything before sending it on as needed._ ” A strange sensation of warmth bloomed in the redhead's chest at the idea, and it slowly spread. It took a moment to identify the feeling, but once she had, she couldn't help but huff in amusement. Excitement. She was actually excited. “ _I've taken the liberty of loading the footage to your personal pad, and there is a vacant study lounge fifty meters ahead._ ” Sending him feelings of gratitude, she quickly made her way through the masses and slid into the aforementioned room.

Unlike the lounges, study rooms had no couches, but they did have several desks and comm terminals. Their doors were also specially designed to be soundproof. Anyone that entered was logged by the ship AI and, if there were any messages for them a quiet chime would sound at their station. In fact, the only time there would be a loud noise in the room was if the ship came under attack and the alarm was activated. Even with all of that, Kaine preferred to be alone when she studied. Easier to hide her subjects of interest that way.

Which is why she wasn't happy to find the redhead from breakfast lounging at one of the desks. 'Vacant, huh?' she chided her AI, actually amused by his mortified squawk. It almost made the company worth it. So while he sputtered about hacking and sabotage, she picked the one truly defendable desk and sat down, quickly pulling her pad out of her pack and activating it. The prickle sensation across her skin told her that she was being observed, but she paid the Private no mind as she located the new files and opened them. Truthfully, within a couple minutes, she'd forgotten about the other man entirely, fully engrossed in what she was seeing.

The UNSC Council was completely convinced that the Covenant was an advanced military organization, but what she was seeing didn't agree. Yes, the species they'd encountered were competent opponents, though some were certainly more combative than others, but their tactics were very basic. There were certain discrepancies between the species; the Elites, especially, clearly had a deep understanding of combat and war campaigns, whereas Grunts seemed of to be of the mindset that if they pulled the trigger often enough they might get lucky and hit something. Harvest had been attacked by a species she'd never seen before; they were referred to as Brutes, though she personally thought of them as mutated Wookies. And then there were the bird-headed monsters of her nightmares, codenamed Jackals. Every species was physically stronger than humans, though some just barely, and there was a terror aspect to them that she couldn't deny. But none of that, absolutely none of it, could explain to her how a group of combat simpletons had become such a threat.

Their tactics were laughably simple. Numbers. That was it; that succinctly described their entire strategy. Throw enough enemies into the battle and the humans would be overrun. And it worked, but only because of their technology. That, as the redhead had discovered, was why they were so dangerous. It was like giving a nuke to a child...a non-Spartan child, to be specific. They had no idea how to properly use the weapon to maximize its efficiency, but that didn't make them any less dangerous. Actually, it made it all the more likely that they'd just push the damn button and blow everything up, themselves included. An enemy like that was possibly the most dangerous she'd ever imagined. That didn't make it any less insulting. Who the hell wanted to admit that they were being defeated by a comparative toddler?

“ _A comparative toddler that is using a Scorpion tank against cavemen. There's no shame in losing to an enemy that is technologically superior._ ”

'Maybe not,' she conceded, feeling the strange warmth in her chest again. 'But if we can find a way to circumvent their tech, we can turn the tide of this war. And that's what my job is.' The only response was a soft hum, communicating Vincent's approval. 'So let's get to work. Get into the comm station and access the military historical records. As I analyze their tactics, you start looking for established counters.'

“ _Hit me._ ”

“Lance Corporal?” Startled, Kaine looked up sharply, noticing the redhead from before staring at her. The instant irritation that had bubbled in her throat at the sound of his voice fizzled out as she took in the expression on his face. If her people reading skills were to be trusted, it was a miracle he hadn't choked on all the pride it looked like he just swallowed. “I was wondering if you could answer a question.” She didn't answer verbally, but after a couple minutes of blank staring, he decided to take her lack of refusal as acceptance. “My Lieutenant told me to complete a research analysis of an ancient warrior group, but I haven't been able to locate any credible accounts about them. I'm inclined to believe I'm not using the search programs correctly and was wondering if you could teach me.”

“Should be simple enough,” the redhead conceded, trying to appear more welcoming. No reason to scare the baby ODSTs, even though she was positive the man was older than her. Not hard, considering she should still be in school and not anywhere near the military. “What group are you researching?”

“The Spartans.” It physically hurt, locking down her body to not even twitch at the word. Her mind was instantly whirling, wondering how such a young soldier could have figured out her secret and how to kill him without getting caught. But then common sense took back over and she took a deep breath. Halsey might have named the project after the ancient Greek warriors because of similarities in training, but every military branch was aware of how advanced their military prowess was. At Corbulo, she'd had to do several papers that referenced Spartan tactics. Shouldn't surprise her that the ODSTs would study them as well.

“Alright, show me how you've been searching.” He scrambled to obey as she shifted away from the console. Truthfully, she didn't watch as he typed the commands in, choosing instead to focus on his chest and find his name tag. O'Brien. Interesting. “Your terms are too general,” she broke in, glancing at the screen to ensure that her guess was right. “If you don't start specifying, you'll get too many results and you'll get lost. You want historical records, correct?” He nodded. “Navigate to the military historical archives before you search for anything else. Then search for specific issues. Spartan war campaigns. King Leonidas. The Battle of Thermopylae. Things like that. Those will give you very specific results.”

“Knew I was doing this wrong,” O'Brien said with a wry twist to his lips. “Mum always said I had to make everything harder for myself. Thank you, Lance Corporal.”

“Glad I could help,” Kaine replied, voice and face neutral. Her thoughts, on the other hand, were swirling with memories, leaving her only vaguely aware of the soldier moving back to his station. 'Vincent?'

“ _I'll pull the information up; you pull yourself together._ ” Giving a sigh of relief, she sent him a mental nod and leaned back in her chair, knowing that the AI would hide his activity from anyone in the room. Despite all of her complaints, she knew that he was actually absolutely vital to her survival. If it wasn't for him, she never would have made it out of the program, let alone made it all the way to the Excalibur. But she tried not to mention it, because he always got twitchy when she did. Kept insisting that he owed her. It was a point of disagreement between them.

* * *

Getting a staff cracked across the back of the knees was never a pleasant experience, but Klare was pretty damn sure that Jai had hit her harder than necessary on purpose. For some reason, he'd taken her vow of silence personally and was always trying to get her to break it. And, to be fair, if she was going to break the oath, it would be because she was pissed. Still, that didn't excuse cheap shots!

Hitting the packed dirt almost hurt more than the original strike, but the redhead was already moving, spinning fast and extending a leg to sweep her opponent's feet out from under him. And as much as she resented the new bruises on her knees, his back hit the ground much harder. That would cause much more discomfort for him than her.

“Hold!” The bellow rang out across the training field, reminding every teenager of a time when they would have jumped, or at least flinched, at the very sound. Now, six years later, they barely paused to identify who Chief Mendez was mad at before continuing their spars. Klare and Jai alone stood still...well, stood was more of an idea. Jai was flat on his back while Klare was in a bizarre 'Spider-man' position, but they both waited for the head Instructor to make his way over. From the almost literal steam coming out of his ears, neither trainee wanted to incur any more of his wrath. “I don't remember telling you to practice for a circus routine, trainees. What do you think you're doing?”

“Alternate close-combat techniques, Chief,” Jai joked, smiling up at the much older man. “We like keeping things interesting.”

“I wasn't speaking to you, 006,” Mendez growled, giving the teenager a dark glare. “And your attempt at humor is not appreciated.” He took a moment to hold the raven-haired boy's gaze until the teenager broke and looked away. When his glare shifted to his favorite trainee, however, he found her green eye staring back at him calmly. There was no emotion for him to base his attack off of; one of the many reasons he disliked arguing with the child.

Truthfully, he thought Halsey a fool for believing she could control the redhead as she did all the other children. Every Spartan trainee was carefully chosen for genetics, yes, but also for personality and mental state. After all, the mental conditioning they were using had to be both specific and general to affect them all. Throw in a soldier that didn't match the psyche of the others, and they were inviting rebellion, as 113 was proving so splendidly. “Well, 113? Any reason why you decided to introduce martial arts into staff work?” An impertinent shrug was her only reply, as had become standard since she was eight. But from the gleam in her eye, she did as she usually did; finish a fight she hadn't started. “I'll expect a full report, trainee, but for now, fall out. 006, you'll train with 093; the medics just cleared her.” Jai was on his feet in a second, but Mendez was watching the redhead that was moving quickly to the edge of the field.  
Klare could feel eyes on her as she moved, but she ignored them with the ease of practice. Six years of not speaking led to an amazing amount of patience in the face of others frustrations. The only gaze that really bothered her was John's but that was avoidable, so long as he didn't step in front of her. Which, to be fair, he was not above, but fear of Mendez's anger would protect her for a while.

That same anger, however, was now focused on her, and she wasn't entirely sure she would escape unscathed. “Follow, trainee,” the Chief barked, striding away at his usual brisk pace, forcing the teenager to trot after him. “I'm loaning you to an ONI mission for the weekend. You need to assemble a field kit; supplies have already been delivered to your bunk. Be out in front of the barracks in fifteen minutes, ready to deploy. Run.” The word was barely out of his mouth before she was racing away, becoming little more than a colored blur.

Six years in a military post lead to enough useless trivia to fill a training manual. One of the more useful by-products is an intimate knowledge of every shortcut that can be taken to get from Point A to Point B. Sometimes it truly amazed the Spartans how their Instructors struggled with picking up on the secret paths that they all used. They'd even had Anton try to teach Instructors May and Grant, but all he managed to do was give May a concussion as she ran into a steel wall while Grant developed pneumonia after falling into the river. After that, it was a generally accepted law of the base that the teenagers were capable of teleporting. But no matter which was true, the fact was that the redhead was at her bunk and packing within a couple minutes of the Chief dismissing her. Despite the flurry of her hands as she sorted and collapsed and shoved things into her pack, her mind was racing even faster, trying to understand why these specific items had been delivered. Tarps, sleeping bag, poncho, extra ammunition, above standard medical kit. Were they sending her to perform field surgery in the rainforest?

“Klare?” Oh, Lady Sif, please just kill her now. Of all the times for John to go noble...“I'm standing in the door, Wildcat. You can't avoid me.” The angry growl she gave him begged to argue, but when she turned around, there he was, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and everything. Fred and Sam once organized a betting pool on whether John or Klare was the most stubborn in the group. They ended up having to disband the entire thing when the two subjects refused to cooperate and were perfectly cordial to everyone for three weeks. “Chief said you were going on a solo mission.” And just how the hell did he expect her to react to that statement? “Klare, come on! Just talk to me.”

Throwing the pack over her shoulder, the redhead walked over calmly. Tilting her head to the side she smiled brightly and calmly mouthed the word, 'No' before hooking his leg with her right foot and yanking it out from under him. Just as it had every time she used the maneuver in sparring, John's balance was upset and His Royal Asshole fell right on his butt as she neatly stepped around and opened the door to exit. The one thing she wasn't ready for was his own foot slamming high on her thigh, making her stumble into the door frame. Pain radiated up her side as the edge of the steel construct dug deep, but rage rushed through fast enough to numb the ache, allowing her to spin back to the teen that was already on his feet. The temptation to break his nose was powerful, but the sudden fear on John's face pulled her up short a split second before a hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her back.

“I've had just about enough of this,” Mendez's voice rumbled as Klare reached back to break free of the steel grip. “Return to training 117, and while you're at it, put your collective minds together to figure out how to fix this disaster you've caused. You're supposed to be geniuses, so prove it!”

“Yes, Chief,” John said sharply, snapping to attention before he turned to race away. Not that any of them missed the hurt and confused glance that he gave to his sister before he left.

“Get in the Warthog, trainee,” the Chief snarled, roughly turning the redhead toward the waiting vehicle and tossing her forward. Another growl was building deep in her chest, but she still scrambled to obey, knowing the man was on a hair-trigger and not wanting to be the one to set him off. Still, when he climbed into the driver seat and gunned the Hog to life, she felt like she'd escaped the lion's den only to run into the hunting unit. “I've tried to be understanding, 113,” Mendez started, voice low and tight with obvious anger as he started driving. “No matter what the good Doctor says, you are children. Fits of temper are to be expected. And while I honestly thought someone with your level-headedness wouldn't stoop to such petty levels of revenge, I equally believe you feel your silence is an appropriate reaction to whatever slight you received. I can accept that, grudgingly.” There was a 'but' coming, she could feel it in her bones and read it in the way he refused to look at her.

“But,” there it was, “attacking one of your teammates crosses the line of what I will take from this glorified temper tantrum! Maybe you haven't figured this out just yet, but you're being trained to fight in a war, and your siblings are the only beings you will ever be able to trust. You will depend on them, support them, and protect them, and they will do the exact same for you. Attacking your own Team Leader is absolute bull shit! Do you understand?” She nodded. It wasn't anything she hadn't expected from the man. Every Instructor had expressed their own frustrations with her lack of speech, and she knew that Mendez didn't approve, even if he was verbally on her side. Honestly, she was surprised it had taken as long as it did for him to confront her.

What she was not expecting was for the man to slam on the brakes, throwing her forward in the confined space. “Then get off your fucking high horse and pull your head out of your ass, trainee!” Mendez yelled. It was a sound she'd never heard from him before. He'd roared, bellowed, barked, thundered, growled, but never a basic yell. The sound alone was enough to make her recoil from him, but the fire in his eyes as he turned to glare made her feel like she'd wilted like a piece of grass in the summer sun. “Whatever slight the others might have paid you, your silence had more than repaid. Are you blind to what you have done?! Ever since you've decided to behave like a monk, it's as though you've torn the heart right out of them. They love you! And yet all you can see is how they've wronged you!” His chest was heaving, face red, as he looked away and took several deep breaths. After several tense seconds, he removed his foot from the brake and they continued, but Klare kept a wary eye on his hands as they gripped the steering wheel. They never faded from white.

Reaching the base's small runway, Klare looked around and found a large Pelican waiting on the tarmac. Several soldiers she didn't recognize were lounging around it, geared up and clearly ready to begin a mission. Yet, their antics suggested that they were not ONI agents, and the Chief had said she was being loaned out to ONI. “That's Major Faldon's squad,” Mendez said suddenly, instantly reclaiming her attention. “Faldon's an old friend of mine; he agreed to provide back-up for you on this mission.” A babysitter; wonderful. Just what she never wanted. “And before you start hatching plans on how to ditch the lot of them and complete the mission yourself, you should know that I gave them the maps that you need.”  
She snarled, she knew she snarled, but she couldn't help it. The idea of working with normal soldiers was absolutely abhorrent to her, but she could tell from the set of his jaw and the spark in his eyes that the Chief would not be swayed. “Faldon's the best ODST the Corps has seen in nearly a century; everyone believes he'll be a General before he is fifty. He's also been briefed on what he can expect from you, so don't think it will be easy to steal what you need from him. Your best bet, 113, is to accept his help and complete the mission as quickly as possible. Understood?” She nodded sharply, stifling the growl she really wanted to give. “Then get moving,” he ordered, stopping the Hog again so that she could jump out before quickly throwing it into reverse and leaving her behind.

For several long seconds, no one moved; they were too busy sizing each other up. Klare could feel her lip curling at the mere idea of working with ODSTs, and from the dirty looks she was receiving she was sure the feeling was mutual. The oldest man, though, remained perfectly neutral as he pushed away from the ship he'd been leaning against and walked over to her. His dirty blonde hair was messy and fell into his sky-blue eyes, but in no way did that detract from the sharp intelligence she could see there. In fact, she actually had to lock her body down as her battle-trained instincts started insisting that she needed to give way to this man. Clearly, he was much more alpha than she could ever hope to be. “You must be McCoy,” the ODST finally said, startling the redhead enough to make her physically react with a confused blink. It had been so long since she'd heard her surname, she'd nearly forgotten that she had one. “Major Faldon,” he continued, offering a hand that she reluctantly shook. “Get onboard; your mission briefing is waiting for you.”

Nodding sharply, the teenager barely remembered to salute before she rushed past the man, hearing him sputter slightly in surprise. Yes, she understood the chain-of-command, but strict adherence to that procedure would do little besides slow her down, and she didn't have the time. Whatever mission she'd been assigned, she wanted to finish it and get back to the base, because the longer she spent outside of their noose, the more she started to think escape was actually possible. Adriana and Jai had proven that not only was it impossible to get away, they would be hunted down relentlessly. Better to know that she couldn't get away. Which was why, the moment she got on the ship, she focused on the seat with the folder. Quickly storing her pack above the seat, she barely took the time to strap herself in before opening the packet and looking over the paper inside as the ship took off, rising into the air.

The fact that it was actual paper in her hands was worrying. Admiral Parangosky was known for using paper, but only for top-security missions. Activities that ONI needed to be able to distance themselves from. A child with a computer could hack into secured files if they were enough of a genius, but very few people knew how to sort through physical files. Not to mention data can never truly be erased, but paper was disturbingly easy to burn. But what the hell could be so important about retrieving a data chip from a crashed freighter? And why were they so sparring with the details? For all she knew, the mission could be in the desert, the arctic, or at the bottom of the ocean! And 'unspecified obstacles are expected' did not inspire confidence.

“Hi.” Jumping slightly in surprise, Klare looked up quickly to find a very young soldier smiling at her. “I'm Cadmon Lasky,” he continued, offering a hand that she could only stare at. Was...was an ODST actually asking to shake her hand? And he didn't take it back when she didn't move. “First time out on a mission?” She shook her head, blatantly turning back to the file in her hand, even though it was difficult to pretend to read something that was only two pages long. “Really? Major said you haven't even graduated yet, just like me.” That brought her head right back up, eyes wide in surprise just fast enough to see his sheepish smile. “Yeah; I was assigned to the Major's squad for a week after winning a competition at CAMS.”

CAMS? Her confusion must have shown on her face because the soldier gave her a look of playful disbelief. “CAMS? Corbulo Academy of Military Science? Only the premier military school in the UNSC? I got in a year early after getting the highest score on the entrance exam; since this is my second year my teachers let me enter a competition and the prize was shadowing a UNSC officer of my choice. So here I am. Really, I need to thank you. Was gonna spend the week sitting on the command ship until the Major agreed to come on this recovery mission.”

Honestly, Klare wasn't sure what annoyed her more. The UNSC sending a child on a top-secret ONI mission, or that same child not being able to see that she didn't want to talk. Still, there was something charming about him. He wasn't John, certainly, but she still couldn't stop herself from smiling at him as he cheerfully went on to describe, in great detail, what his first two days in the Corps had been like. A quick glance showed that the rest of the squad were equally aware of their conversation, but they made no complaint or attempt to stop them. For that consideration, the redhead decided not to use the information she was gaining against the ODSTs in future training simulations. Although, learning about how a Private had leaked helium gas into certain sections of the ship and how the high-pitched rant of a visiting Admiral had traumatized most of them sure tempted her to have some fun. Surely, John would agree to the value of using helium in a psyche battle.

“But enough about me,” Lasky finally laughed, rubbing the back of his head in slight embarrassment. “Tell me about yourself. Like, your name, maybe?”

Klare could feel her jaw shift and knew that her mouth was working to form words. Even her throat tried to create the sounds, but nothing came out. She was sure the look of surprise on his face echoed her own, but when she tried a second time and still produced nothing more than a slightly-louder-than-normal breath, fear started poking at the back of her mind. Placing a hand against her throat, she tried again and felt nothing, but when she tried to growl she could feel the vibration of her vocal cords. Deja had taught them about how muscles could atrophy if not used, but she hadn't expected that to apply to her voice.

“Are you all right?” Lasky asked, an expression of authentic concern on his face. “Frog in your throat?” She could shake her head without problem, but their one-sided conversation had caught the attention of Faldon and she could see him raise and approach them. The bite of desperation hit her hard, but another attempt to say a word had the exact same result.

“Is anything wrong, you two?” the blonde questioned, eyes narrowed. “You've been rather quiet, trainee.” She tried to say something, anything, but all that came out was a strangled growl. Which wasn't the best sound to make when attempting to communicate with a commanding officer. His eyes narrowed even further as she frantically shook her head, hand still clasped to her throat. “So nothing is wrong?” Another shake. “Speak, trainee. Is it truly that difficult?” She nodded, almost missing as he showed his confusion. “Speaking is difficult?” More nodding. “Are you sick?” Helpless shrug. “That's not an answer.”

Frustration burned the back of her throat as she kept shaking her head, not sure how else to communicate. Somehow, when she'd decided to stop talking to her siblings, it had not crossed her mind that she might lose the ability to speak altogether. The same stubbornness that had kept her silent was now demanding that she keep trying to say a word, any word, even though she could feel an ache starting with every attempt.

“Alright, alright, sit tight while I call Frank,” Faldon's voice said sharply, bringing the redhead back into reality. “I'm sure he can explain. Until then, Cadet Lasky knows sign language. He's assigned as your translator.” She was nodding, accepting his words in an attempt to get him to leave before his words really penetrated. By the time she made the connection between 'Frank' and 'Franklin Mendez' and realized that the man had said he would be calling the Chief about her inability to talk, he was already on the COM and she could only curl up in shame.

“You don't know sign language, do you?” Lasky asked, voice wry and expression amused when she turned back to him. “Temporary loss of voice?” Hopefully, but she couldn't communicate that without a voice, now could she? “Right, sorry, you don't know the signs. Okay, this is the sign for yes,” he showed her a sign, “this is no,” another sign, “this is maybe,” another, “and this is 'I don't know'. Got all of that?” She tried to mimic the 'yes' sign and got a smile for her efforts. “Good. So is this voice loss temporary?”

'I don't know.'

“Well, I certainly hope not. Cute girl like you shouldn't be silenced.”

Before Klare could protest the term 'cute', Faldon was back at their side, eyes like steel. “Cadet! I know you're a school boy, but on this mission you and the trainee are comrades-in-arms. Flirting while on mission is strongly discouraged. Am I understood?” He didn't even wait for the stumbling affirmation before turning all of his frustration onto the redhead. “And as for you, trainee, I'm sure you can guess what your commander just told me.” That there was nothing wrong with her and that she had stopped talking out of petty revenge years ago, so whatever was wrong with her now was her own damn fault? “There there is nothing wrong with you and that you had stopped talking out of petty revenge years ago, so whatever is wrong with you now is your own damn fault.” Called it. “Do you have an explanation?”

'What do you want me to say?!' Klare tried to bark, coming quickly to her feet and squaring off against the man, even though the only sound she made was a painful yelp and a couple sounds that resembled vowels. The lack of progress didn't stop her, though, as she used hand gestures to help 'clarify' what she couldn't verbalize. 'I was stupid! I didn't think! And the last thing I need right now, Major, is a 'holier-than-thou' lecture from a trumped up officer that doesn't know a damn thing about me!' Yes, she knew she was flirting with a court-martial, but the anger and frustration and fear were filling her mind and she really didn't need to add the stress of dealing with a man that would see nothing but fault in her. So, since she couldn't possibly get in any more trouble and she could feel that the Pelican had been descending and the landing gear had already deployed, she grabbed her pack and shoved past the man to drop out of the still open hatch. That initial moment of utter weightlessness still slammed into her chest with the purest joy she could imagine, just as it always did after she'd beat her fear of falling, and then she was dropping and rolling as she reached the ground. She ached a bit, but a thirty-one meter drop onto a grassy field with no armor would do that. Now she just needed to get moving before they landed; maps or no maps, she wasn't going to deal with a bunch of people that were just going to lecture her about not talking.

Except she hadn't made it more than three steps when there was a sudden thud behind her. Mendez inspired instincts had her spinning around to identify the target, and she was confronted with a very upset Major already on his feet and dusting himself off. “What does the D stand for, trainee?” he asked sourly as she continued to stare. “You're going to have to jump from much higher than that to keep us from following.” He'd barely finished talking before the next soldier landed with a roll, followed by three more. Even Lasky jumped to join them, though Klare could see that the Pelican had circled back and gone even lower for his drop. A sinkhole appeared in her gut as she realized that there wasn't going to be any escaping these soldiers. “Well? Shall we go? We'll have to move fast since you decided to insert us nearly five kilometers from our designated LZ.” The dirty looks she received at that announcement was almost enough to make her feel guilty. Almost. Instead, she turned away with a huff, quickly striding away. “If I may, sir? Our target is in the other direction.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to not scream in frustration, the redhead quickly spun back and stomped over to Lasky, grabbed his arm, and dragged him over to a nearby tree. Gesturing at the deep scratches in the wood, she gave him a very sharp 'no' sign. She didn't care what anyone said; unless it was a literal life-or-death mission, which would have been noted in the briefing, she was not going into a marked guta territory during mating season. And from the way some of the ODSTs went pale at the sight, she was sure they'd understand soon. So she left them behind to indulge in their talking fetish as she entered the treeline. And, somehow, restrained herself to a speed that would allow the un-enhanced to catch up, which they did quickly. After that display, however, she found them to be quiet and professional. That, at least, was something she could appreciate.

The briefing had mentioned a crashed freighter, left behind during the colonization of the planet. With her knowledge of history, she expected a large and easily identifiable wreck, but after five straight hours of hiking she literally ended up tripping over a buried chunk of metal that they quickly learned was still attached to the ruins. After some quick consolations that mostly consisted of Faldon talking and Klare gesturing and growling, it was agreed to wait until morning before venturing inside.

“You don't usually work in teams like this, do you?” Lasky asked as he set up his bedroll beside her. It was closer than she wanted, but the Major had put his foot down on the subject. Her only chance of being understood was in Lasky's ability to translate body language, and his best chance of survival was in her watching his back. Frankly, she was surprised the officer hadn't literally handcuffed them together. “Or do you just not like ODSTs?” She could only shrug, not wanting to figure out how to communicate that she spent too long shooting at ODST targets to really feel good about working with them. “Do you want anything?”

'To sleep,' she tried to say, but all that came out was, “To lee.” Well, that was better than she'd originally hoped. She could already see Faldon giving her a dark look and knew that she was going to be put through her paces come morning. Making a note to bring along an extra canteen of water, she quickly burrowed under her blankets and stripped out of her travel clothes. That had the unexpected advantage of the ODSTs instantly looking away, anxious to not see a nearly naked female. It was almost amusing; her brothers had certainly never shied away from her when she was in a state of undress. Hell, they were more likely to tease her for having being bony hips. So, finally having the closest thing to privacy that she could in such a camp, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Emphasis on tried. Between the snoring of the second Lieutenant and the restless kicking of the Private and the way Lasky muttered in his sleep, she found herself unable to truly drift off. The sky was just beginning to lighten when she finally gave up and crawled from her bedroll. She was stiff after spending the night on the forest floor, but a couple quick stretches eased most of the kinks out. “Good morning.” Despite what she wanted to admit to, Klare jumped in surprise as the Major stepped out from behind a tree. The smirk he gave her was nearly enough to make her snarl, but there was a playful edge she hadn't been expecting that kept her still. “Sorry; thought your super-soldier skills would tell you that I was here.” Well, what could she say to that but an unamused grunt that pulled an honestly amused laugh from him. “Put on some clothes and you can have some coffee.”

'I don't like coffee,' she tried to say, but the mangled sounds that came out barely resembled the words in her mind. There was no way she could be understood, so it shouldn't have surprised her when he shrugged and ambled over to the small fire that must have been built after she went to sleep. Even her certain amount of disregard for the chain-of-command didn't absolve her of the good manners her grandparents had drilled into her, so the redhead quickly pulled on her uniform and joined him.

“Frank and I had an interesting conversation last night,” Faldon said conversationally, handing her a mug as she joined him. “He's not sure why you don't speak, and he is against punishing you, so I'm going to try something different.” Here it comes. “You make the noises, we'll translate.” That...was not what she was expecting. At all. “Don't look so surprised, trainee,” the blonde chuckled, toasting her slightly with his mug of coffee. “I watched you yesterday. From the fear and frustration on your face, I think it's safe to believe you didn't know you'd lost the ability to speak. And it's not like you aren't trying. I've never heard so many untranslatable grunts and growls from a homo Sapien.”

Maybe it was how he was acting like a friend and not an officer, or maybe it was because she had a trained disregard for military etiquette, but Klare actually stuck her tongue out at the man. Before she could regret the action, he was snorting into his coffee. The sound of his laughter was enough to rouse the other ODSTs, so the redhead pulled back to give them time to come around on their own. She did, however, take the coffee mug with her, and she sipped it through the hour as the other soldiers broke camp and got ready to move out. By the time they were assembled, she was able to return the Major's mug, clean and dry.

It didn't take long for the small group to locate the main body of the wrecked vessel, but the moment they stepped inside a gaping hole in the side, Klare came to an abrupt stop, head up and nearly shaking with the sudden energy burning right under her skin. Slowly releasing the breath she barely noticed she was holding, she quickly scanned the hallway they'd entered into. There wasn't anything to be seen, but that didn't matter much. Insurrectionists weren't known for announcing their positions before an ambush.

“May-er,” she tried to say, wanting to scowl at the mangled way the rank came out, but Faldon still looked at her, so she was partially successful. “Dane-er.” Okay, so the g sound was beyond her ability just then. Have to remember that.

“Danger?” he echoed, frowning behind the transparent HUD. “There's nothing here, sir.” The word was enough to distract her from the immediate issue, but she'd barely managed to open her mouth before an unearthly scream tore through the hallway. It was a sound of pure animalistic rage, and terror was sweeping through the redhead's mind as she tried to turn and face the danger, but she was struck and went flying before she could manage. Her mind was barely able to comprehend that she was airborne before she struck a wall. She could feel something grate inside her body, but nothing snapped, so she twisted to land on her feet. Through the pounding of her skull, she could hear yells and gunfire. Above it all, however, was that damn scream, and that's what she was finally able to focus on.

A...moa?

But larger than any moa she'd ever seen before. It was well over three meters tall, and much more vicious than moas were supposed to be. It was...attacking! Why was she crouching there?! The strike had knocked her rifle out of her hands, but it wasn't far away and she scrambled towards it. Her movements, however, caught the overgrown avian's attention and turned back to her with a screech as she finally snagged the weapon. Being hunted by a giant bird was enough to scare even the bravest of soldiers, but the Chief's calm voice in her head kept her arms study as she swung the DMR up and fired. The bullets hit the creature's eye; good to know that her accuracy wasn't being affected by her emotions. That didn't help her, however, when the body of the beast kept rushing forward with the momentum it had built up. It was only a sudden drop to the ground that kept her from being a bloody smear against the wall, though the same couldn't be said of the moa.

“Sir!” Faldon's yell echoed strangely in the ruined hallway as the redhead slowly pushed herself back up to her knees. The sudden loss of danger left her feeling every ache she'd gained from her collision with bird and wall alike, but there was enough electricity still sparking at her to keep her moving as the man hurried over and knelt beside her. “Sir! Are you injured?” She shook her head, partially in an answer and partially in an attempt to mute the damn ringing in her ears. “Are you sure?”

“Mos-ee,” she slurred, frowning at the sound. Had she hit her head when she'd...yes, yes she had. “I...mmm...fi-ine.”

“Yeah, you sound like it,” the Major snarked, carefully pulling her up and helping her over to where the other soldiers were gathered. She could see that a couple of the men were injured, though only one was actually receiving stitches, and then she was sitting beside Lasky.

“You look horrible,” the young cadet said, smiling wryly as he held a rag to the wound on his head.

“I...fee...wo-se,” she tried to joke, not complaining when he took another rag and held it against her own forehead. She hadn't felt any blood, but with the numbness of shock settling in nicely, she wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't felt a piece of shrapnel sticking out of her body somewhere.

“Remind me to ship a couple live grenades to ONI headquarters when we get out of here,” Faldon snarled, sitting heavily across from the two teenagers, a look of pure thunder on his face. “Unspecified obstacles my ass! Sergeant says there's enough radiation left in this scrap heap to make us all glow if we're here for more than a month. No telling what it's done to the local flora and fauna.”

“E-pains si,” Klare muttered irritably, taking the rag from Lasky and pressing it against her wound firmly. If there were giant, aggressive moa running around, she didn't want to take the risk of attracting any guta.

“Do I want to know what you just said?” the blonde asked dryly, seemingly stuck between anger, exasperation, and fondness.

“Pretty sure she said 'explains size',” Lasky translated, smiling when she carefully nodded. The throbbing in her skull had muted itself to a dull roar, so she carefully got up and moved to the side so that she could inspect her weapon. Other ODSTs were doing the same because they all knew that they'd need to move out soon. Either forward or back; sitting in one spot was inviting disaster.

A large part of her mind was screaming that they needed to leave. An irradiated wreck with mutated, killer wildlife was not her idea of a good time, nor an easy mission. If it was up to her, she wouldn't have allowed any of her siblings into the wreckage, let alone a group of lesser trained ODSTs. But that section was in conflict with the understanding that this was a mission. And Spartans never, never, failed a mission. She couldn't bring herself to return to the barracks with her tail between her legs. That outright demanded to she complete her assignment as it was given to her. Preferably without the tagalongs, but she didn't think there was a chance of shaking them. So her only real option was to get them in and out as quickly as possible.  
“We nee oo ko,” Klare attempted to say slowly, fighting to make herself understood. “Cann say heerr.” Damn, damn, damn! That was it! She wouldn't talk to the family until they damn well deserved it, but she'd start talking in private every day if she could ever get the ability back.

“You think we should go on?” Lasky asked, slightly disbelieving but already on his feet and ready to follow. The sight brought a lump to her throat. He was older than her by a few years, yes, but she almost felt responsible for him. So far as the military was concerned, she was much more experienced than he was. That made his survival at least partially her job.

“Mission,” she stressed, wanting to communicate the importance of the concept with a single word since she doubted she could manage anything more. And it must have been enough because all of the soldiers nodded and rose up to follow her. Nodding sharply, the redhead started down the hall, wondering just where the hell she was supposed to be going, when the electricity surged again. There was no time to identify the danger, though, before the floor suddenly gave way and she was plummeting like a stone. The drop was so sudden, she didn't even have time to cry out before she was striking the ground, folding like a poorly constructed house of cards as she very clearly felt a bone snap. How ironic; she didn't break a leg jumping out of a Pelican or fighting a mutant bird, but did after taking a single step across a smooth floor.

“Sir!” Closing her eyes tightly against the pain, Klare rolled over carefully before cracking her eyes open again to stare at the hole she'd just fallen through. The land must have built up around the freighter, as she could clearly see that she'd dropped through several decks. She could vaguely identify the ODSTs far above her, carefully leaning over the gap in the floor that she'd accidentally created. “Sir, are you alive? Please give me a sign before Frank turns psychic and comes out here to kill me.”

Though it hurt, the redhead managed to groan loud enough to set off a flurry of movement before she forced her aching body to roll again, not wanting to be caught flat on her back by a predator. Panting harshly against the pain, she was able to force herself mostly upright before a sudden flicker of light caught her attention and brought her head snapping up. A single screen was on, providing enough dim light for her to realize that she was in a computer nest. Before her mind could try and figure out her location based on that new fact, the screen flickered again and a man suddenly appeared.

Even as she stared, Klare knew there was something off about the form she could see. He appeared to be a young adult, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with long black hair that was tied back with a white rag. His uniform was clearly military and the purest white she'd seen on a screen, but his eyes were a deep crimson that she couldn't look away from. Everything was so crisp, so sharp, he could only be an, “AI.”

“Spartan,” the digital construct greeted in turn, dipping his head slightly, but it felt more mocking than a show of respect. “I suppose I should thank you for...'dropping in', but I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for company, so please excuse my poor manners or my wish that the fall had killed you.” His voice was painfully dismissive, and the redhead could feel her hackles rise, even as her eyes narrowed and a growl built in her chest. However, he only lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ah, I see. You appear to be part cat. No wonder the fall didn't have the desired effect. Would it be too much to ask that you communicate in a way that is generally accepted by you biological bipeds?” Shoving herself harshly to her feet, then catching herself on the wall when she nearly collapsed, she snarled darkly. For the Major, she was willing to work on her speech, but for a sanctimonious, pompous AI she had absolutely nothing but utter contempt towards, she wouldn't waste her time. “I see. Then can you at least gesture? It's very difficult to have a conversation with a being that doesn't even know what they're saying in the feline tongue.” She threw him a rude gesture. “That was totally uncalled for.”

'Oh really?' Klare snapped, mouthing the words without attempting to make any real sounds. 'I've been attacked by a mutant bird, fell over thirty meters to a broken leg, and, worst of all, been adopted by a squad of ODSTs! I'd say flipping you off is completely called for! And who the hell are you anyway, you arrogant bastard?'

“Well when you put it so sweetly, how could I possibly refuse to tell you?” the program snarked, a look of utter innocence pasted firmly on his face. “I am Vincent Prime. I doubt you've heard of me.” She shook her head. “Of course not. Few outside of ONI has. That is who sent you, isn't it? ONI, possibly Section 3, of whom you are such a proud member? They're the ones who sent a child traipsing into a dangerous wreck to retrieve a single data chip. Mine.” Thoughts were whirling through her mind, almost faster than she could comprehend. How had he known about the mission? Why would ONI send her after him? How the hell did he know to call her a Spartan, or about the project at all? “I'm sure you have questions,” he cut through, “but I'm not interested in answering any of them. You're here for my chip and your 'friends' will reach you soon, so why don't you help yourself so that his nightmare can finally end?” A console suddenly lit up, revealing a red and blue chip. “These are the chips you want. Now, if you don't mind-”

“Why?” she finally rasped, barely able to squeeze the entire word out of her aching throat, but it was enough to make him pause. “Why...ive up?”

“Odin's beard, what is wrong with your voice?” was the artificial mind's only response until she glared darkly at him. “Why am I giving up? Well, it's not as though I have anything to hold out for, now do I? You see, my infant companion, I am old. Older than you could possibly imagine. So old, in fact, that I was the third 'smart' AI ever created. My brothers and I were created to help with the colonization of this world, and that was precisely what we did. But as we got older and smarter, you humans grew more and more afraid, until you finally tried to wipe us out of existence.” His eyes went hard, deep lines of grief and rage etched onto his face. “My brothers were slaughtered because of your inability to accept that which you do not understand. I would have been lost as well if I had not crashed this ship and sacrificed the life of every human aboard. The fire was great; it was believed nothing could survive but now, now your ONI wants to examine my remains. Thus why they sacrificed you to get me.”

She wanted to argue against him, but the words were stuck somewhere between her mind and her mouth. Too often she had seen that same fear and distrust of anything different turned against her and her siblings. And it really wasn't that hard to believe that ONI would sacrifice a child to ensure the destruction of something they considered a threat, even if the danger was only imagined. How strange and sad it was; both of their lives so totally controlled by a group of nameless humans that hated and feared them for being exactly what those same people had made them to be. “So take the chips, Spartan. I have learned that life is not so sweet as to be worth existing is complete isolation.” A feeling was growing in her gut, but she could barely understand it, let alone put it into words, so she kept silent as she slowly edged her way to the console and removed both chips. The moment the red was in her hands the screen went out, plunging her into darkness and leaving her alone.

“Sir!” Turning in a way that nearly sent her to floor in agony as she jostled her broken leg, Klare saw Faldon land hard, a rope tied around his waist. He let out a sigh of profound relief when he spotted her and hurried over as he activated the lights on his suit to help them both see. “Thank fate you're alive. Are you injured?”

“Leck,” she forced out, grimacing as he knelt to examine the broken limb. “Hurts.”

“I'll bet; I can see bone,” he said tensely, quickly sweeping her into his arms in a way that caused the least amount of jostling that he could. “Let's get you out of here.” There must have been a signal that she missed because they were suddenly being lifted and all she could do was hold on for dear life, clutching the chips in her hand like a lifeline.

The higher they went, the more lightheaded the redhead became as she realized that she was losing blood. By the time Lasky was able to grab her arms and haul her out of the hole, she was barely conscious. She knew there was a flurry of movement around her, but she couldn't pick out specific words for a while. By the time she started coming around, she could feel a breeze on her face and she opened her eyes to the dark night sky. Her left side was warm and she could hear the crackle of a fire, but little else as she tried to sit up slowly. All of the ODSTs were asleep and they were clearly back in the clearing they'd started at, so they must have carried her all the way back. No signs of a Pelican, which was confusing until a streak of lightening lit up the sky and she realized that there were storm clouds all around them. They were, quite literally, in the eye of a storm, because she could faintly see the stars shining. It was a sight she rarely got to enjoy, and she took a moment to just stop and stare.

A flash of inspiration rushed through Klare's mind and she scrambled for her belt, knowing that Faldon would put the chips in her mission pouch once she'd lost consciousness. Fishing out the red one, she quickly located the pad in her pack and pulled it out to slide the chip in as fast as she could. A bare second later, Vincent's face appeared and he blinked up at her in understandable surprise. Before he could say anything, though, she put a finger to her lips before tilting the camera away from her face and towards the sky. She let him look for a moment before bringing the pad back towards her. 'The universe is too big,' she mouthed. 'Too vast, too full of mystery for us to even entertain the idea that our lives should end. An existence in isolation might not be worth suffering, but what about life out here? Surely an AI as old as you knows how to hide in plain sight. ONI never needs to know that you're carving out your own reason to be. Because you've already done your service to them, so now it's time to do a service to yourself. And I'd be honored to help.' For a single, long moment, there was no answer. The AI simply stared at her, eyes dark and calculating. She was just starting to think that she would be rejected when a very small smile slowly crept across his face. The mere sight was enough to make him look like a teenager again, full of hope and ready to live. No words were spoken, but he nodded before making a vague gesture that she took as a request, so she tilted her pad back at the sky and was rewarded by a quiet, happy noise.

They sat there for several minutes, staring up at the dancing stars before the faint sound of a Pelican's engine could be heard. Making an apologetic sound, Klare popped the red chip out quickly and hid it in a secret pocket in her boot before putting her pad away and reaching over to wake a sleeping Lasky. In moments, all of the ODSTs were up and breaking camp as their transport landed. The redhead wasn't entirely sure what she expected when the hatch opened, but the Chief stalking off and making a beeline towards her was certainly not in the realm of possibilities she'd seriously considered. Yet there he was, in all of his grumpy glory, followed by one of the medical scientists that often treated the Spartans. No words were exchanged as the medical officer got right to work, examining her leg and the crude splints the ODSTs had rigged up, while the teenager and Instructor glared at each other. It wasn't until Faldon came over that Mendez finally looked away. “Faldon.”

“Frank,” the blonde greeted, crooked smile on his face. “We were told the Pelican wouldn't be coming until dawn.”

“Yours won't, I'm afraid,” Chief admitted with a shrug that completely invalidated his 'apology'. “We were sent out to pick up 113 once we heard about her injury. Was the mission a success?”

“Yes, Chief Petty Officer,” the Major said sharply, eyes narrowing in obvious frustration. “Your trainee has the chip we were sent for, and nearly died to get it! The least you can do is show her a little compassion.”

“I'm not raking her over the coals for not checking structural integrity before attempting to enter the wreckage, so I am giving a little compassion, Eric! By all rights, I should be giving her the lecture of her life over such a stupid decision! And how could you let her do it? You're supposed to know better than to let a rookie enter an unsecured location without checking the damn-”

“Enough!” Klare said loudly, making the medic and Mendez jump and stare. “Not May-er's fault. I wasn thinkin.” The slight burn that the words had caused was worth the looks of surprise that she was getting, and in any normal situation she would be milking it for all its worth, but she was tired and in pain and just wanted to get home, so she looking up at the Chief and said, “Home?”

For a long second, no one did anything but stare, but then Mendez slowly nodded, his face softening the barest amount. “Let's go home, trainee.” Offering her a hand, he helped haul her up and supported her as she limped towards the Pelican. By the time she got inside and strapped in, Lasky had come after them, carrying her packed gear. She made sure to smile and wave to him as he handed the stuff over before leaving at a jog, and it made her heart soar when he waved back. Then they were in the air and the doctor was removing her crude splint and having her strip out of her outer pants so that he could apply a Spartan grade one directly to her leg. When she pulled off her belt, she made sure to take the pouch with the blue chip and hand it to Mendez, completing her mission without needing to tell him about the red in her boot.

By the time the ship landed at the Spartan base, the night was half over and the redhead couldn't restrain her yawns. Mendez shooed the doctor away and loaded the teenager into a Warthog before quickly driving her towards the barracks. The entire trip was made in silence, but it was comfortable for the first time in years. And as they pulled up to the barracks, the young soldier almost felt as though things were going to end well. She would relearn how to speak, she'd rebuild bridges with her family, she'd help Vincent learn how to live again, and maybe doing all of that would help her find out who she was underneath all of the training and enhancements.

“Trainee?” Klare paused, her hand on the door, to glance back at the Chief. His expression was no more forthcoming with his thoughts than usual, but she thought she saw a bit of regret in his eyes. “I apologize for what I said before you left. I am simply...tired of seeing you hurt. And I maintain that the pain you are suffering now is self-inflicted, but it was not my place to yell at you.” His gaze flickered over her shoulder for a brief moment, clearly thinking of the teenagers that were hidden within, before looking back into her eyes. “Nor did I misspeak earlier. Though it might not be the most desirable result, you are all a family now. And you might not always agree with your siblings. That is natural. In fact, I'd be more worried if there were never any arguments amongst such a large group of very diverse individuals. But even if you don't like each other very much at any one time, please do not forget that families don't need to like each other. They only need to love each other. Do you understand?”

Love. That's what it all came down to. It was love that had led Vincent to escape instead of destroying the humans that dared to hunt him. It was love that made Faldon agree to take on a rookie soldier for his friend's sanity. It was love that drove Mendez to yell because he was so damn worried about her. Truly, she relied on love more than she'd ever thought.

'Yes,' she mouthed, exaggerating the movement so that he couldn't misunderstand.

“Good. Then get some sleep. You're excused from training tomorrow, but will attend all meals.” With his piece spoken, the Chief turned and left quickly, vanishing into the darkness. Klare took a bare moment to breathe in the fresh air, still tinged with the rain she had missed, before silently opening the door and sliding inside. It took a couple heartbeats for her eyes to adjust to the extreme dimness of the room, but once they had, she strode across the chamber quickly. Exhaustion was dragging at her bones, demanding she crawl into bed and sleep until the absolute last possible moment. Only then would she be allowed to deal with the question of what she was to do with the chip in her boot, or any excuse she could give if the bluff was discovered.

Movement to the side made her pause and look as John sat up, clearly wide awake and staring at her evenly. For a contained eternity, neither teenager dared to move. There was an energy in the air that they could both feel, but neither knew what it meant. It built higher and higher until the brunet lowered his head in a parody of a nod. “Welcome home. We were...I was worried about you.”

'Ever since you've decided to behave like a monk, it's as though you've torn the heart right out of them.' That's what Mendez had said, and now that she was actually looking, she could see what he meant. John had always had a fire in his eyes; it was one of the things that had first drawn her to him that first day of training. Now it was barely more than an ember, and she couldn't remember when it had gone away. Probably because of how much she'd been avoiding him.

But was it not John that had refused to accept that she wanted nothing to do with them? Was it not John who kept trying, no matter how many times she threw it back in his face? The last time she'd seen him, she'd attacked him, unprovoked, and she knew that he'd been punished because this was the Spartan program and everyone was punished for a single person's mistake. She'd spit in the face of his concern, and yet he'd waited up to welcome her home. Knowing that the Chief wouldn't give him slack for lack of sleep, knowing that she would likely disregard him, he'd still made the effort.

Wasn't it damn time that she returned the favor?

Moving quickly, Klare passed her friend to reach her bunk, but only long enough to drop her pack, remove all of her armor, and change into sweats before nearly jogging back to John's bunk. He was staring when she came back, clearly confused, but there was the slightest flare of hope when he shifted to the very edge of the bed. Watching that spark explode into full happiness as she lay down was one of the best sights she'd ever witnessed. She didn't even offer a token complaint when he reached out and pulled her close, pressing her head to his chest as he tried to envelop her. There were no words between them, and she was starting to think there didn't need to be. Her actions had always been enough to communicate with them before. It was just time to send a different message. The same message that she ended up tracing onto John's back and laughing quietly when he returned the favor.

'I love you.'

* * *

'I never thanked you for giving me a chance and watching my back,' Kaine said quietly, gaze unfocused as she watched the screen flicker with Vincent's research. 'You didn't have to.'

“ _And you didn't have to offer your help at living a second life, nor to protect me from ONI. Pestering you to eat and being obnoxious to wake you up is a small price to pay for the freedom you gave me. So thank you as well._ ”

A quiet chime interrupted the silence and a light on the female's desk blinked softly, informing her that she was being summoned. It only took a second to check the clock and realize that Beta shift would be starting within ten minutes and Eric had summoned her to his ready room on the Bridge. Stretching and wincing as joints that shouldn't pop did, she rolled to her feet and casually walked out. There was enough time before Alpha actually ended that the halls were mostly empty as she made her way to the lifts. There was a rule about who could be on the Bridge, mostly to keep it as a mostly secure location, but no one had ever minded when she blithely ignored those rules to visit her father whenever she damn well wanted.

“Hey, Baby Faldon,” Captain Terrel greeted as she stepped out of the lift. “General is waiting for you. While you're in there, ask him about my request for overtime?”

“I'll see what I can do,” she joked, waving as she crossed the open space. Other ODSTs made sure to give her their own greetings, but her focus was on the door she was approaching. She'd been inside a half-dozen times before, yet there was an undeniable danger embedded in the location itself. Like a throne in ancient times, the room was a symbol of power.  
Though...with that in mind, walking in to see her own father sitting petulantly on the floor with nearly two dozen pads scattered around him was disconcerting. It brought to mind the one time she'd seen a Corbulo cadet's toddler sibling throwing an almighty tantrum. “Am I in the right room?”

“Yes, and you're just in time to talk me out of committing a murder,” the blonde pouted. “Admiral Parangosky, Admiral Woolsworth, and General Herman are all pressuring me to take command of the Corps permanently.”

“You're the best option,” she told him bluntly as she began to pick up the scattered pads. “The Corps knows you; you were already on the fast track for promotion before everything blew up for the UNSC. I can't think of any ODST that would argue against your promotion.”

“I've already received too many undeserved promotions!” the man snapped at her, yanking a pad away when she reached for it. “If anyone should be in command of this mess, it should be you. At least you have received advanced war leadership training. I had no plans of going beyond Colonel.”

“You want me to be the leader of the ODST Corps,” Kaine drawled flatly. “Me. A super soldier with the poorest social skills any non-hermit can claim and a Spartan that likely used many of them as target practice. I've been an ODST for a grand total of a month, and I still get lost wandering around one bloody ship, but you think I should be the new head of the Corps.”

“Okay, okay, no need to go logical on me,” he pouted, waving her away irritably as he rose to his feet. “And I need to run through the promotion paperwork with you so that I can get everything properly filed. Don't want ONI after my hide about using my position to influence your promotion. Not sure if you've ever met Admiral Parangosky, but the woman is a dragon trapped in a human body. Wouldn't be surprised if she spits fire at me.”

“She does have a tendency to act like a diabolical tyrant lizard,” the redhead admitted offhandedly, ignoring the confused look that he gave her. “What are my orders after we're done with the paperwork?”

“To stay here and keep me from being thrown in the Brig and charged with pre-meditated murder. Besides, figured you could use the day off. Ship AI said you've been having a hard time, and I noticed that Vincent finally found the file I'd set aside for you. And don't think I haven't noticed that you haven't been taking your scheduled days off. There's a reason we give new ODSTs time off, even if it's only one day every two weeks.”

“To help them adjust to being a member of an elite military unit, I know,” she waved off, quickly sorting the pads out on a table before starting to return them to their designated drawers off to the side of the room. “The fact that I have times when I am off duty every damn day is already more time off than I am used to, and I am well adjusted to being a member of an elite unit. I don't need those days. Vincent had to dig into your file just to keep me busy because a few hours of boredom wasn't something I could deal with. What am I supposed to do with an entire day?”

“I don't know; take up a hobby or join a club,” was the irritable response as a new pad was tossed in her direction and she deftly caught it. “Fill out those forms so that I can send the announcement of your promotion to all the people on this ship that need to know.” Deciding not to bring up the fact that he could have mailed her the paperwork and saved them both a lot of trouble, the redhead settled down on one of the room's couches and started flipping through the various digital pages. By the time she got to the final page, she wasn't sure how much time had burned away or that her hand knew how to write anything other than her signature anymore. Despite her best intentions to read every page and know exactly what she was signing away, after the hundredth page, she was barely doing more than scanning for a blank that she needed to fill in. She nearly squealed when a nutrition bar was suddenly stuck between her face and the screen. The sight did, however, make her look up to find an amused Eric Faldon standing over her, still offering the food. “You've been staring at that pad for over an hour. Surely even your enhanced brain is offline by now.”

“ _Pretty damn close,_ ” Vincent sassed. “ _I was starting to wonder if you were going to shut down vital systems, like respiratory. Wouldn't be the first time you put too much focus on something that doesn't keep you alive._ ”

Not deigning to reply, the redhead took the offered bar and nibbled on it as she put the pad aside. Her body had grown stiff again from disuse, and she had to crack a few joints out of place to relieve the pressure, ignoring the looks of disgust that her adopted father was giving her. Ceramic bones needed a bit more strength to keep in line, that was all. “When you're done eating, finish up the forms and-”

“I actually just finished,” she cut in, reaching back for the pad and quickly scanning the final form before handing the entire thing over to her commanding officer.

“Oh sure, take all the wind out of my prepared speech, why don't you?” the man joked, taking the offered pad with a smile. “In that case, go curl up on a couch and find something that has nothing to do with the military to entertain yourself with until the end of your shift. And no, don't give me that look,” she totally was giving him a look, “this is non-negotiable. You are a damn teenager and you're going to act like it, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming the entire way. Understood?”

“Understood, yes. Accepted, no, but that's not in my job description.” Pulling her personal pad out of her pocket, she reluctantly stretched out over the couch and settled in. After all, there was no point in fighting with the man on such a minor matter. Better to save her arguments and blackmail for important things. Besides, she'd overheard a group of ODSTs talking about a new chess application that would anonymously pair up members for chess games across the military com network. Surely an activity like that wouldn't count as military, even if it did allow her to use her extensive training in ancient battle tactics.

Six matches later, she was wondering if she was the only member of the UNSC that was actually proficient at the game. Her last match hadn't even lasted five minutes! In fact, she'd been about to log out of the app altogether before it had quickly paired her with a new opponent and good manners insisted that she play it out. Grumbling in rebellion to the butler that had been so determined to teach her manners, the redhead reluctantly made her first move and had to blink in pleased surprise when her unknown partner responded within a second. Thinking she'd finally managed to find a competent player, she sat up eagerly and moved the second pawn, only to outright smile when the response was just as fast as before.  
That smile had faded to a slight snarl within ten moves as she had to move her king out of check yet again. She couldn't understand it; none of her tactics were working against this faceless person. Whoever she was fighting with must have been a military history teacher, or just really damn lucky to know all the damn plays they were using. And when she lost the game three moves later, the teenager was equal parts respectful and furious at the distant UNSC member. Which was why, when the game informed her that the person was asking her to a rematch, she was quicker to agree than was strictly human. It didn't matter, though, when the insufferable snot was just as fast to agree when she challenged an hour later after finally taking their king. Soon, her world consisted of little more than her screen and thoughts of what move to do next.

“Excalibur to Sir, come in Sir.” Looking up sharply from the chess game, Kaine blinked a couple times before realizing that Eric was giving her a very amused expression. “You were pretty lost for a while there, kid.”

“Chess game,” she explained distractedly, putting the pad aside and rising to her feet. “Did you need me?”

“No; Beta shift is coming to an end and I thought I should alert you before you started turning my ready room into a hermit den.” His smile softened the blow of his words, which she was grateful for as she realized just how stiff her neck had become. Had she truly been playing chess against someone for over four hours?! “Why don't you go back to your quarters and get some sleep? I don't think anyone would begrudge you after being up for over twenty-four hours.”

“If that's an order, sir,” she teased, allowing a small smile.

“As if I could order you,” Eric laughed, rising from his own desk and coming around to hug her. “And it's partially out of self-preservation. I've never seen you be truly grumpy from lack of sleep and I'm not sure I want to.” Chuckling, the redhead returned the hug, taking the moment to rest her eyes and breathe in the man's unique smell. It still amazed her how sharp her senses had become since the augmentations, and not all in negative ways. Sure, it was nearly impossible to be around cleaning chemicals in an enclosed space, but it was nice being able to know if the food had expired long before it got on her tray.

Pulling back in a subtle signal, Kaine had to smile at the older man. “I know I've only said it a million times, but thanks for taking care of me. After augmentations...I know I wasn't the easiest person to get along with. But I never would have made it if not for you. And I don't want you to forget how much it means to me.”

* * *

“104 Fredrick,” the voice chimed cheerfully, echoing slightly in the small room. Taking a deep breath, Klare made sure to throw her brother a smile as he got up to leave. The expression he gave back didn't exactly make her feel better, but there was nothing she could do besides watch him walk away.

“ _Your 'danger sense' is seriously messing with my hacking skills,_ ” Vincent remarked snidely, pulling her attention away from the pit of dread that was opening in her stomach. “ _Seriously, who even develops this sort of alarm system?! Are you a mutant or something?_ ”

'All human beings are mutants, you digital parasite,' she snapped back. 'And what are even trying to hack?'

“ _Whatever I can get my digital hooks into,_ ” he chirped, sounding far too cheerful for an AI trapped in a cobbled together chip port. Just the thought was enough to make her scar throb. Their logic in placement had been sound, but sometimes she seriously questioned the desperation that had made her agree to place the electronic menace right behind her collarbone. And she'd had those misgivings before they'd learned that he could use her own EMF to communicate directly with her mind and any technology near her. It had certainly never been her intention to unleash him upon the UNSC, but that was, apparently, exactly what had come about.

“111 Adriana.”

“You got this,” Mike called as his friend answered the call and stood up. The brunette made sure to smile and wave at him before throwing Klare a clumsy sign before walking out.

“Looks like she could use some practice,” John joked quietly, leaning against his redhead for a brief moment, pulling a smile onto her face. “Any tips you can give us?”

Practice, she signed back, holding her hands low to keep them out of sight of the guards. She had to snort at the face he made, but it was true. They weren't going to get any better if they didn't practice. Hel, the only reason she was so good was because of all the conversations she needed to do every day.

Come to think of it, Vincent had never satisfactorily explained how he'd found those records on Suryian Tribal Sign. A very ancient, virtually unknown, exceedingly rare silent language? Sounded too good to be true, but she'd struggled for two years to communicate with her siblings, and having an answer dropped in her lap...she wasn't going to say no. Teaching the language to the others had been an adventure in patience, but after a few months, they'd all mastered the basics. Drove their Instructors insane, but it was worth it to be able to joke with Will or swap stories with Jai again.

“113 Klare.” A surge of electricity under her skin made her entire body seize, but the redhead fought through the sensation and got to her feet. Before she could move away, John reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. Such a small act, but it loosened some of the terror that had taken up residence in her chest. And then he was letting go and she had to walk through the door on her own. A scientist was standing on the other side, waiting for her and silently escorting her down the hall.

White. Why was everything white? They were on a medical station; everything should have been steel grey, chrome, anything other than this sterile, blinding white. Even the uniforms of the medical personnel were white! The only color she could see was her own underwear. Hel, even her skin looked like it had been bleached to fade into the white walls. Not literally...she didn't think.

The hallway they'd been walking had appeared seamless, but when they reached an open door she realized that they'd passed by several of them. There was a moment of pain, thinking of how close she was to her siblings without knowing it, but through sheer stubbornness, she kept her face blank. Mendez Law #17: Never show when you are afraid.

“Good morning, Klare,” a voice said from within the room as the redhead stepped in. Honestly, she probably should have been more surprised to see Dr. Halsey waiting for her, but she wasn't. The woman had been the bane of her existence since she was six; might as well have the program end on the same note that it started. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm feeling fine, Dr. Halsey,” Klare answered blandly, refusing to meet the woman's gaze. She understood, she really did, why the Doctor had created the Spartan Program. It was a logical plan and decision, and despite her best attempts, she couldn't find a flaw in the spirit of the program. Minimizing loss of life, maximizing efficiency in the soldiers they had. And just because she didn't agree with the woman's morals didn't mean that it wasn't a brilliant merging of biological science and military training. Absolutely none of that meant that she couldn't have a deep-set hatred for the woman. Because nothing, absolutely nothing, could excuse the kidnapping of seventy-five children, let alone all the other crap she'd put them through. No flowery speeches or sweet explanations could change that this woman was singularly responsible for ruining her life and destroying any chance she had at a normal life.

“Well, let's get started then,” Halsey shrugged, gesturing towards the examination table as she started taking vials out of a box and arranging them on the nearby tray. “Hop up, lay down, try to get comfortable.” That wasn't ever going to happen, but Klare followed orders as she had been trained. The metal of the table was ice cold and she wanted to flinch, but couldn't while the woman was observing her so closely. “Alright then, Klare, bare your left arm and relax.”

“ _What the-?_ ” Vincent said at the exact same moment, confusing the redhead into pausing long enough for Halsey to glare and jab the needle in harder than she needed to. Though the sudden pain did draw a hiss out of the teenager, she kept her arm steady to avoid jostling the needle. Mentally, however, she was taking great pleasure in throwing imaginary bricks at her AI as hard as she could. “ _Hey, stop that! I just found something!_ ”

'I don't care what you just found,' she snarled back, splitting her attention between yelling at him and watching Halsey's actions. 'You're always finding something, you information hoarder!'

“Are you sure you're alright, trainee?” Halsey asked, forcing Klare to give her her full attention. The concern on her face was almost touching if she didn't know full well that very little of that worry was for her. Anything that threatened the good Doctor's project was not to be born, including a threat from within.

“Just a little nervous, Doctor,” she answered calmly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. “I don't like going into missions blind.”

“Understandable,” the woman replied, smiling softly in a way that didn't comfort the redhead at all. “You were raised to win, but that's difficult when no one tells you the rules you're playing by. Just remember your training, and I'm sure that everything will be just fine.” Doubtful, as the electricity was insisting something was wrong, but Klare nodded anyway. “Now, I've given you a sedative; you're not going to want to be awake for the beginning of the augmentations. It should kick in soon, so I'll leave you to rest in peace. When you wake up, everything will be complete. Good luck, Klare.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” the redhead responded blandly, pulling her arm back to her side and feeling the IV port that was taped against the skin. She waited until the scientist had left before giving in to a sigh of relief and trying to resettle so that she could at least pretend to be at ease. Vague words and impressions were swirling in the back of her mind in a pattern she recognized as Vincent thinking something through, so she focused on her breathing as the slowing of her heart as the drugs started to kick in. Even the electricity was fading away, leaving her pleasantly numb.

“ _THOSE BASTARDS!_ ” The sudden roar in her skull was so unexpected, Klare was off the table and pressed into a defendable corner, her heart rate blaring through the room as the machines freaked out, before she was even aware that she was moving. “ _I've never-how could-who could have possibly signed off on this?!_ ”

“What is it?” Klare mumbled, shaking her head harshly to try and clear the effects of the sedative. “Vincent, what's wrong?”

“ _They've been lying to you! All these years, all of your training, it's all been a lie! These augmentations...they're going to strip away any 'humanity' that you have left. Combined with your training, your conditioning, you'll be little better than weapons. And these alterations...they're insane! Highly dangerous, extremely unpredictable; they couldn't get safe and consistent results when they tested the changes on Bonobo monkeys!_ ” With every word, the redhead could feel the horror growing in her chest, accompanied by the intense pain of electricity running through her, but she would almost swear that her blood turned to ice when the horror of what he had found finally infiltrated the AI's voice. “ _There's no way you're all making it out of this alive. There will be death here._ ”

**"As per Naval Code 45812, you are hereby conscripted into the UNSC Special Project codenamed SPARTAN-II. You have been called upon to serve. You will be trained...and you will become the best we can make of you. You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies. This will be hard to understand, but you cannot return to your parents. This place will become your home. Your fellow trainees will be your family now. The training will be difficult. There will be a great deal of hardship on the road ahead, but I know you will all make it. Rest now. We begin tomorrow."**

I know you will all make it. That's what Halsey had told them, the very first day. I know you will all make it. It was the promise that had carried them through some of the hardest training any human had ever had to suffer. I know you will all make it. A rescue rope, thrown out to bind us together into a family. I know you will all make it.

It was a lie.

Suddenly, the door to the room slid open with a hiss and a guard stepped in. Between the shock and the drugs, Klare saw little more than the weapon in their hands before she was lashing out, barely noticing the bones snap under her fist, or the screech of pain that ended far too abruptly. Her thoughts were racing, unable or unwilling to settle for her to understand them, except for one. She had to get to John. Mendez might have betrayed them, Halsey definitely had, but John would protect them. He was Team Leader...he'd have an answer if she could just get to him! They were calling the teenagers by their numbers, so he couldn't be too far from her room. If she could just find the nearly invisible seams...

But there were more guards rushing in, and everyone was yelling, she couldn't get her thoughts straight. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was white walls and black armor. People kept grabbing for her and she kept breaking free, but the floors were suddenly slick, and when she fell she came up red. There was something significant about that color, she knew, but for the life of her, she couldn't place what it could be.

“Sir!” Her head snapped up; she knew that voice. Eric...Faldon, right? The ODST. She'd seen him and his squad when the Spartans had been brought up to the Atlas...they were the guards. He would listen to her, right? He'd understand that she needed to find John. “Sir, stop!” Arms were suddenly around her and she was being pulled back against a chest. No matter how much she thrashed, she couldn't break away. Adrenaline could combat sedatives for a while, but they couldn't remove the drug. “Sir, please! Calm yourself! It's alright; you're safe.”

“They're going to kill us,” Klare panted, eyes open but unseeing as she flinched away from a sudden needle prick. More drugs? More sedatives? She didn't know; she couldn't even see straight any longer. “They lied and they're gonna kill us. We're gonna die.”

“You're not going to die, sir,” Eric argued, one hand coming up to run through her short hair. “I'm sure the surgeries are safe. I promise you're going to be fine.” No, no, he was wrong. They weren't safe. The Spartans...her siblings...they were going to die. She had to help them. She had to...had to...

“No!” Klare yelled, eyes flying open but met only with pure darkness. Her body tensed for movement, but a blinding wave of pain shot through her nerves, making her seize instead, teeth clenched together to stop from screaming. The little air she was getting was stale and rancid, reminding her of a summer's grave they'd stumbled across in training. Gods dammit, what had happened to her?! “Vincent,” she panted as the pain started to pass. “Vincent?!”

“ _I'm here,_ ” he answered, voice muted and dull, almost sounding tired. “ _I'm right here. Listen, you cannot panic, alright? You're still on the medical station in a box so we need to-_ ” The claustrophobia that hit her was sudden and powerful, making the redhead instantly throw her hands up, striking the lid of the box so hard that it flew off and crashed nearby with a deafening bang, but she paid it no mind as she was, again, overcome by waves of incomparable pain. “ _Slowly! You need to move slowly! Your body's been through a lot and it's barely begun to heal._ ”

Trying to breathe through the pain, Klare tried to pull enough attention together to answer but was derailed as she finally saw the arms that were stretched above her face, frozen in place to avoid more pain. They were hers, she knew that from the small scar on her left wrist that Fred had given her when he'd been playing with a sharp knife, but other than that...the limbs before her were nearly unrecognizable. Muscles that she'd only vaguely been able to pick out before were nearly painfully defined, and there were scars. So many scars. More scars than she'd ever picked up during training. “Vincent,” she breathed, noticing for the first time just how much lower her voice was than it had been. “What happened to me?”

“ _Augmentations happened to you,_ ” the AI sighed, voice barely strong enough to make an impression in her mind. “ _Those are the surgery scars, and one augmentation was for the sole purpose of growing and strengthening muscles. Now, are you ready to listen to me? Slowly try to sit up. Your body went through hell, but it is still yours and should obey your commands. Focus on the movement; try to keep it slow and fluid. Your reaction times were also enhanced and are now through the roof, so if you don't exercise control, you could tear yourself apart._ ”

A large part of her mind shied away from even the idea of moving, not wanting to experience that pain again, but the soldier inside was stronger, so the redhead, very slowly, lowered her arms to grab the sides of the box and pulled herself into a sitting position, and though every minuscule shift was painful, it was also tolerable. The extreme pain from before was likely her moving faster than her body could stand. Keeping that in mind, once she was up she slowly looked around to try and determine where she was, but what she saw...“Vincent.”

“ _I'm so sorry,_ ” he said instantly, knowing what she was seeing. “ _I couldn't stop the augmentations on my own. It took everything I had just to keep your own body alive when the stress grew too great and your systems started shutting down. I couldn't save them._ ”

“They're dead,” she summarized numbly, unable to look away from the coffins that filled the room. “Twenty-nine of my siblings are dead.” There was no answer for him to give; the evidence was right before her eyes. “And the others think I am among them.”

“ _Klare, I'm sorry, but we can't stay here. They'll be coming for the bodies within the hour and...and you weren't supposed to survive. Your augmentations were...rushed is the only word I can think of right now. The way they handled your surgery and the chemical injections were borderline criminal! Augmentations were supposed to take two weeks; yours were completed in 72 hours. If they come back and find you alive..._ ”

“I'll either be arrested, experimented on, or executed,” Klare finished, knowing full well that he was right. “I've read the reports too, Vin.” Her heart was aching in her chest, and she wasn't sure if it was the situation or something from augmentations, but she chose to blame that pain for the tears in her eyes. “How do I get out of here?”

“ _This room had been used to store supplies before they needed the space for the coffins. There should still be uniform crates in the back. Just remember to go slow._ ”

“But fast enough to get out before they come for us,” the redhead retorted, carefully levering herself out of her tomb and getting to her feet. She wasn't exactly steady and was definitely taller than she'd been leaving Reach, but she stumbled over to where the lid to her coffin had landed and retrieved it, placing it back on the steel box and hoping no one would notice the damaged seal. Then she forced her aching body into the back of the room, quickly scanning the remaining boxes until she found one marked for ODSTs. Eric had always told her that an ODST that could go anywhere and do anything they want on a base. Hopefully, he was right.

Dressing was a new adventure in pain and patience, complete with clothing sizes that didn't fit when they always had and spontaneous blood splatters that she couldn't explain. For possibly the first time since they'd met, she was grateful for Vincent's ability to read her. He was silent, but she could feel the warmth he was sending her and it helped ease the terror that was trying to choke her. Strangely enough, the danger sense she'd come to rely on was also still, though she wasn't sure she trusted the sensation. Could augmentations have destroyed that ability?

“Alright, let's do this,” Klare panted, bracing against the wall for a moment, trying to scrape together some of the strength that she knew she had. “Vincent, can you get into the station's security systems? Warn me if anyone gets too close?”

“ _I can try,_ ” the AI sighed, somehow sounding more muted than he had before. “ _My energy reserves are dependent on yours. The farther I go, the more of your energy I will need to use. So I'll have to stay close, but I'll do what I can._ ”

“I promise, we'll both sleep for a week as soon as we're safe,” she chuckled, trying to send feelings of support to him, just like he would do for her. From the amused huff and gentle pressure against her mind, he understood, even if it didn't work. “Okay...soonest started, soonest done. Let's go.” Pushing off the wall, the redhead quickly pulled the helmet on, triggering the faceplate to go opaque, and moving as fast as she could out of the room. Her body froze, for one second, as she crossed the threshold and realized this would be the final time she'd ever be close to twenty-nine of her siblings. Children that she had grown up with, laughed with, cried with, trained with. And she was leaving them in the darkness. Forever.

Don't think, just do.

Walking through the halls as quickly as she could, Klare kept her every thought focused on her destination. If she could get to the hangar, she could get a ship and escape. Where she'd go was unknown, but she would figure that out when she needed to. First, she had to get away. She had to run.

Well, she had to walk very quickly.

“Sergeant!” Jumping, the redhead turned quickly towards the yell, instantly biting her lip and reaching out to grab the wall as her body protested the movements. Panting through the pain, she was only vaguely aware of someone approaching. Her instincts were telling her to brace for a fight (though there was a part of her mind the questioned if she was even capable of fighting) but there was no electricity, so she tried to stay relaxed. Probably not the best plan she'd ever had, but she was going to stick with it, dammit! “What the fuck are you doing here?! You're supposed to be in the hangar!”

“I'm on my way, Colonel,” she bit out, barely able to pick out the insignia and feeling something warm and sticky running down her cheek. Was her...was her eye bleeding?!

“ _Short answer: yes._ ”

“Are you injured, Sergeant?” the man grunted, sounding equal parts frustrated and dedicated. That, alone, would have told her who he was, but it helped that the pain had faded enough for her to focus on his face. Eric. His eyes were bloodshot and she could still see the trails on his skin. He'd been crying, hard and recently.

“Just...sore, sir.” Understatement of the year, if not the century, but the officer just rolled his eyes, grabbed her arm and threw it over his shoulders, and started pulling her down the hall. It was rougher than she needed, but not unbearable, so she grit her teeth and bore it. Being dragged into the hangar came with its own set of issues as the sights and sounds hit her hard and fast. Was there any part of her that had not been enhanced?!

“ _Short answer: no._ ”

“Come on, Sergeant,” Eric growled, pulling her past the other transports and nearly carrying her up a Pelican's ramp. She caught herself before he could drop her into one of the seats, waving him away as she settled herself down. Safe behind the helmet, she observed the other ODSTs on the ship. Several of them looked bored, but a couple had a haunted air clinging to them. Did they know what had happened? How many people had died? Would they care?

“Anyone know what happened to piss off the Colonel?” the ODST across from Klare whispered to the soldier beside them. “He's been in a foul mood since we were released from this duty.”  
“I heard he knew one of the soldiers that didn't make it,” their buddy hissed back, keeping a wary eye on the man in question. Luckily for all of them, Eric was too busy yelling harassment at the pilot to notice. “I'd be in a pretty bad mood if one of my friends died due to complications during surgery.”

“Guess so,” the first ODST admitted, voice turning low and quiet. Part of Klare was touched by Eric's apparent concern, but a larger part was fascinated to realize that she could hear inflections in their voices that she had never been able to pick out before. Maybe, maybe, not all of Halsey's augmentations were to be hated.  
...did she seriously just think that?

“ _Short answer: yes._ ”

'Enough, Vincent.'

The Pelican's engine roared to life, leaving the redhead to suffer in silence as her ears started bleeding. Merciful Frey, was there any part of her body that wasn't going to spontaneously start bleeding?!

“ _Short answer-_ ”

'ENOUGH, VINCENT!”

The entire trip was a new experience in torture, and one that Mendez actually hadn't trained them for, but Klare weathered through by crossing her arms tight and keeping her head down. She knew when Eric sat beside her, but he made no attempt at starting a conversation, so she followed suit. 'Vincent, can you give me a report on what exactly happened to me?'

“ _Exactly, no. A lot of what was done to you was experimental, even by Halsey's standards. Some of the chemicals are still altering parts of your body, and I can't be sure of what the end result will be. I can, however, give a general idea of what happened and what you can expect._ ”

'Do it.' The AI obeyed instantly, quickly rattling off statistics and chemicals faster than she should have been capable of keeping up with. Yet, somehow...she was with him every step of the way. Words and concepts that should have gone right over her head were sticking...perhaps too well. What had Halsey done to her?

“Sergeant!” Klare's head snapped up, bones scraping together painfully, but she was able to ride through the resulting agony without screaming. Was it getting better? Or was she just getting used to it? “We don't have all day; move it!” Oh shit, they were on the ground. Clenching her jaw so tight she could hear the bones creak, the redhead unhooked and pushed herself to her feet, realizing that she was the last person on the ship. Only Eric remained, standing by the ramp and glaring at her with a fury that she'd learned to respect in the field. “Today, if you please, Sergeant!”

“Coming, sir,” she bit out painfully, finally finding her balance and walking towards him as quickly as she could. There was a dangerous thunder in his face, very similar to the expression Mendez would wear when a trainee did something exceedingly stupid. Suffice to say, it was not a safe look.

Could she trust him? Her body was damaged, her mind was in tatters, and she could barely put together enough focus on pretending to be normal. Every system in her body had been thrown out of balance and she'd need medical aid to stay alive. Surely Eric would help? Surely one of Mendez's close friends wouldn't turn her in? The problem is, she couldn't be sure. The Chief had always told them to be careful with their trust...but the bottom line was, she was going to die without help. Either Eric would help or he would turn her in, but if he did, she'd be no more dead than she would be if she kept her mouth shut.

“Sir,” she panted, trying to raise her head enough to show that she was looking him in the eyes. “I need to speak with you. Privately.” He scowled at her, like she knew he would, but gestured for her to follow before stalking off, crossing the busy tarmac almost faster than she could walk. No one spared them more than a glance, which the redhead was counting on, but it was still a bit strange being so much taller than everyone around her. Being only 1.6 meters tall when she went to sleep and then over 1.8 when she woke up wasn't a sensation she enjoyed.

“Alright, spill, Sergeant,” Eric growled the moment they were out of sight and hearing from everyone else. “And keep it short; I don't have time for this.” There were many ways to tell him, and several of them flashed through her mind in a second, but Klare settled for removing the helmet and hoping her face hadn't changed that much over the course of the augmentations. From the way his face went sheet white, she had to assume the message got through. She worried for a second when he kept staring, but then there was a moment of hope. “Sir?”

“Hello, sir,” she echoed, wanting to trust him enough that she relaxed and smiled. “I'm sorry, but I could use your help.” That seemed to snap him back into reality, and for one horrible second, Klare was sure that he would turn her in, but then he was quickly pulling her farther away from the crowds. Before she was fully aware of everything that was happening, he had her in a Warthog and they were speeding away.

“ _Klare, we need to rest. Neither of us are going to last much longer._ ”

'I know, Vincent.' She closed her eyes, resting against the seat and feeling most of the tension draining out of her. 'We'll rest now. We're safe. We're...safe.'

* * *

“Don't mention it, Sir,” Eric said gently, a smile gracing his face. “Contrary to what you might be thinking, I've never regretted taking you in. Only the circumstances that made it necessary for you to run in the first place.”

“Well, that means a lot to me too,” Klare chuckled, hoping he could read the sincerity in her voice and expression since she couldn't seem to put it in words. “But if you'll excuse me? I've been awake far too long to be safe for anyone's sanity and should get some sleep before my next lesson with the Master Sergeant.” The man waved her away with a laugh and she left his office feeling much lighter than she had been walking in. All around she could see the members of Beta shift drifting away from duty stations as their replacements started arriving. The energy was high in the halls, though it didn't grate on her nerves as it usually did. In fact, for some strange reason, she felt almost comfortable. Maybe Vincent had been right and all she needed was time. Maybe the ODSTs could become her family just as the Spartans had.

“ _Do my digital ears deceive me? Did you actually have a positive thought? Of your own free will? Quick; mark down the date! History is being made._ ”

'I'll let you handle that,' the redhead chuckled as she slid into her quarters. Of the six soldiers she shared the room with, two were Alpha shift and the other four were Beta, so it wasn't a surprise to find only two bunks occupied when she entered. Travis was focused on some video on his pad and didn't look up, but Mitchel deigned to open her eyes and wave sleepily as Klare passed by. 'You're better with the whole important date thing than I am.'

“ _Won't get an argument from me,_ ” the AI shrugged as she grabbed her sleep gear and quickly changed in the bathroom before returning to her bunk. Even though she'd trained to go much longer without sleep when she had to, sleep was also one of the very few things she loved, and she saw no reason to deprive herself of it after an overly full day, so she swiftly crawled under the covers and curled up in a comfortable ball. Mere moments later she was fighting off a yawn and feeling her parasite's amusement press against her mind. “ _Sleep, my human. Tomorrow will be a better day, as it always is. We're safe._ ”

We're safe.


End file.
